Grace left her friends rather hurriedly. She was ready to cry. The revelations of the morning had been almost too much for her. It was hard indeed to be snubbed, but it was harder still to be deceived. "It's all in the day's work," she whispered, over and over again, as she crossed the campus. "I must be brave and accept what comes. It's all in the day's work." CHAPTER IX WHAT EVELYN HEARD ON THE CAMPUS "Ha! Whom have we here?" declaimed Emma Dean, pointing dramatically, as Grace opened the door and stepped into their room. One look at Grace's sensitive face was sufficient. Emma had lived close to her friend too long not to know the signs of dejection in the features that usually shone with hope and cheerfulness. "Advance and show your countersign," she commanded. "I haven't any," returned Grace soberly. "Spoken like a brigadier general who doesn't need one," retorted Emma. "You are just in time to hear my terrible tale. "Oh, a terrible tale I have to tell Of the terrible fate that once befell A teacher of English who once resided In the same recitation room that I did," she rendered tunefully. The shadow disappeared like magic from Grace's face. "Now what have you done, you funny girl?" she asked, her sad face breaking into smiles. Emma was irresistible. "It is not what I have _done_, but what I _might_ have done. What was it Whittier said in 'Maud Muller'?" "There's really no one under the sun Can blame you for what you might have done," paraphrased Emma briskly. Grace giggled outright. "Poor Whittier," she sympathized. "Don't pity him," objected Emma. "Pity me for what nearly happened to me. The illustrious name of Dean came within a little of traveling about Overton attached to a funny story, which I will now relate for your sole edification. You remember that pile of themes I brought home on Tuesday?" Grace nodded.