Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net Grace Harlowe's Golden Summer By JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A. M. Author of The Grace Harlowe High School Girls Series, The Grace Harlowe College Girls Series, etc. PHILADELPHIA HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY Copyright, 1917 [Illustration: Grace's Embroidery Dropped From Her Hands.] CONTENTS I. A Song of Golden Summer II. The House Behind the World III. For Auld Lang Syne IV. "To Thine Own Self Be True" V. Flying in the Face of Superstition VI. The Shadow VII. The Veiled Prophetess of Destiny VIII. Unveiling the Prophetess IX. The Meaning of Semper Fidelis X. The Shadow Deepens XI. Postponing Happiness XII. The Better Part XIII. An Innocent Meddler XIV. The Beginning of the End XV. Merely a Looker-On XVI. J. Elfreda's Master Stroke XVII. Fate XVIII. A Gleam of Hope XIX. The Letter XX. The Last Chance XXI. The Call of the Elf's Horn XXII. Out of the Valley XXIII. The Strange Story XXIV. The Noon of Golden Summer LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Grace's Embroidery Dropped From Her Hands. Devoted Love Shone in Her Clear Gray Eyes. "Here You Are, Weary Wanderer," She Said Gayly. "When You Have Found Tom, Give Him This Letter." Grace Harlowe's Golden Summer CHAPTER I A SONG OF GOLDEN SUMMER "Now, David, you know that I know that you don't know what I know. Therefore, if I know that you don't know what I _know_ you don't know, it's very plain to be seen that either you or I know very little. Now, which of us is a know-nothing? Don't be afraid to confess. Remember, we are your friends." Hippy Wingate beamed benevolently upon his victim, bland expectation written on his plump face. "No real friend of mine would ever take such cowardly advantage of the English language," was David Nesbit's scathing retort. "I'll leave it to Grace if I'm not right." "There, Grace. At last you have an opportunity to strike for the right. I believe in striking a valiant blow for the right----" "So do I," cut in Reddy Brooks decisively. "There is no time like the present. There couldn't be a better place. Away out here in this sequestered spot no one will hear your frenzied yells for help." Reddy rose determinedly from the steps of the old Omnibus House and made a nimble spring toward the loquacious prattler. "Never touched me," was wafted defiantly back, as Hippy Wingate skilfully eluded Reddy's avenging hand and disappeared around the protecting corner of the one-time hostelry. The old Omnibus House had ever been his refuge when put to flight by his long-suffering companions.