One by one she read them, then laid them aside with an indifference born of suffering. If only there had been one for her in Tom's clear, bold handwriting. But it was useless to linger, even for a moment, over what might have been. Grace gathered up her letters and, locking them in her desk, went upstairs, with slow, dragging steps, to dress for her call upon President Morton. It was three minutes to eleven when a slim, erect figure walked up the steps of Overton Hall. Grace wore a smartly tailored suit of white serge, white buckskin shoes, white kid gloves and a white hemp hat trimmed with curved white quills. The lining of the hat bore the name of a famous maker. She had taken a kind of melancholy pride in her toilet that morning, and the result was all that she could have wished. Unconsciously the immaculate purity of her costume bespoke the pure, high, steadfast soul which looked out from her gray eyes. As she paused at the door for a moment, her hand on the knob, she experienced something of the thrill of a martyr, about to die for a sacred cause. Then she opened the door. For an instant she stood as though transfixed. Was she dreaming, or could she actually believe her own eyes? A sudden faintness seized her. Everything turned dark. She swayed slightly, then with a little sobbing cry of, "Fairy Godmother! Miss Wilder!" she ran straight into Mrs. Gray's outstretched arms. That throbbing, wistful cry brought the tears to Miss Wilder's eyes, while President Morton took off his glasses and wiped them with his handkerchief. Great tears were rolling down Mrs. Gray's cheeks which she made no effort to hide. "My little girl," she said brokenly. "How dared that dreadful woman treat you so shabbily?" It was at least ten minutes before the three women could settle down to the exchanging of questions and explanations. President Morton, the soul of old-fashioned courtesy, beamed his approval on them. "Now my dear," said Miss Wilder at last, "I wish you to begin at the very beginning of this affair, and tell us just what has happened." Grace began with the coming of Jean Brent to Overton and of her refusal to be frank concerning her affairs. Then she went on to the sale of her wardrobe which Jean had conducted in her absence and her final revelation of her secret to Grace after the latter had commanded it. Then she told of her promise to Jean not to betray her secret and of the summons sent them by Miss Wharton, to come to her office. "But what was this secret, Grace?" questioned Miss Wilder gravely. "We have the right to know."