"That Miss Correll. Evelyn saw her wearing my black and white check coat and recognized it," returned Jean gloomily. "She came rushing into my room like a young tornado with the plea that Miss Harlowe would blame her for my misdeeds." Jean was tempted to add that which Evelyn had told her in confidence. Then her better nature stirred, and she was silent. "Evelyn isn't nearly as good company this year as she was last," complained Althea. "Ever since the latter part of her freshman year, she's been so different. I've always had an idea," Althea lowered her voice, "that last spring she broke some rule of the college and ran away. One night, just before college closed--it was long after ten o'clock, too--Miss Harlowe telephoned me and asked if Evelyn were with me. I found out afterward that she had gone to New York all by herself. She'd never been there but once before when she spent a week-end with me, and she didn't know a soul. I never could find out anything else, though. Evelyn went to her classes on Monday, and not one word did she ever say about it. I didn't find out about the New York part of it until this fall, though. A Willston man whom we both know saw her in New York with that clever Miss West, who wrote 'Loyalheart.'" Jean listened with attentive gravity. She guessed that Althea had perhaps hit upon the truth. Evelyn had confessed to her that there had been that in her freshman year of which she was ashamed. She had said it was about clothes, yet what had clothes to do with breaking the rules of Overton and running away to New York? Whatever it was, it should remain Evelyn's secret. She would tell Althea nothing. "Let's go to Vinton's for dinner," she proposed, with an abrupt change of subject. "I've plenty of money now--while it lasts." "All right," agreed Althea, "only I mustn't stay out late. I've a frightful lesson in physics to study for to-morrow." Jean did not particularly enjoy her dinner. In spite of her defiant manner she had begun to feel slightly conscience-stricken. She almost wished she had not gone on with the sale. Still she could have obtained the necessary money in no other way. Now that the mischief was done she could hope only that Miss Harlowe would hear nothing of it--not for a long time, at any rate. As she crossed the campus and ran lightly up the steps of Harlowe House she resolved to shake off her recent fear of the discovery, on Grace's part, of her disobedience and act as though nothing had happened. Her resolution was destined to receive an unexpected jolt. "Miss Harlowe wants to see you, Miss Brent," were the words with which the maid greeted her as she stepped into the hall. Jean's heart sank. So it had come already. She stopped for a moment in the hall to gather her forces. Her feeling of penitence vanished. She threw up her head with a defiant jerk and walked boldly into the little office where Grace sat making up her expense account for November.