“Did you ever hear why Miss Randolph never got married?” asked Diane, going back to the first subject of conversation. “No; why?”—and the whole group leaned forward to catch the first word of romance. “She wasn’t asked!” replied Diane mischievously, and was rewarded by groans from all quarters. “Mean thing!” “No, sir!” Isabel exclaimed. “There is a real love story about Miss Randolph. She was going to marry a young professor of oratory. You know what a lovely voice she has, so rich and deep sometimes it gives you the shivers in Chapel when she prays!” “Thrills, you mean,” corrected Hilary. “Well, anyway, this young man heard her voice in another room at a party and went in to hunt it up—oratory, you know,—and found Miss Randolph and fell in love at first sight.” “Sound, you mean,” softly suggested the same mentor. “You’re awful smart, Hilary Lancaster,” grinned Isabel, “who’s telling this?—And they picked out their furniture and he had a dandy job at some school, and she had the love-li-est clothes, and—” “O, don’t say that he died!” exclaimed Cathalina. “No, he didn’t,—that was the worst of it.” The girls laughed here. “Well, which would you rather if you were engaged, have him died and still love you, or have something happen and maybe somebody else get him?” Nobody seemed to be able to decide the question. “Just before the time to send out the invitations, something happened. Nobody ever knew what. She wouldn’t say a word, except that the engagement was broken. She went to Europe and studied art and things, and I suppose he went to his old school.” “You seem to be sure that it was all his fault. Are you so fond of Miss Randolph?” “Well, I always feel guilty when she’s around, but then that isn’t her fault, and I can’t imagine her ever doing anything wrong.” “Who told you all that, Isabel? I don’t believe a word of it.” “Annabel Wright, in the elocution class. Her people came from the same town, in Virginia. Just ask her.” “Funny Cathalina never heard of it.” “O, no; Aunt Katherine wouldn’t speak of it if she knew.” Not a girl of this group failed to look at Miss Randolph the next time she saw her with a new interest because she had had a lover! But it was hard to believe that any one so calm and cheerful could have had the note of tragedy in her life. CHAPTER X HILARY’S BIRTHDAY BOX A curious friendship had sprung up between Cathalina and Isabel Hunt. Perhaps the first tie was the devotion to Cathalina of Avalon Moore, Isabel’s roommate. Then Cathalina was a revelation to Isabel, crude, motherless little girl that she was. For Isabel had been brought up by a father troubled about business affairs, by a queer old cousin who kept house, and by four older brothers.