Mary Reynolds' wistful face was the last touch needed to completely enlist Miss Wilder's sympathy in her behalf. On the strength of the straightforward story which she repeated to the dean, she was allowed to proceed with her examinations. Meantime Miss Wilder wrote to the authorities of the little town near which Mary's uncle's farm was situated. They conducted a prompt investigation and by the time the hitherto friendless girl had passed triumphantly through the ordeal of examinations the faintest trace of objection to her becoming a student at Overton had been removed. CHAPTER X THE THIRTY-THIRD GIRL "I am sorry," said Grace gently, "but I am afraid it will be impossible for me to do anything for your sister this year. Harlowe House will hold, comfortably, thirty-two girls and no more. It isn't so much a matter of meals. They could, perhaps, be arranged, but I haven't a room for your sister. Could she afford to rent a room in town and come here for her meals?" This was an afterthought on Grace's part, born of the desire to clear away the cruel shadow of disappointment that clouded the pale face of the woman who sat opposite her in her little office. "I--am--afraid not," faltered the pale, thin woman, her tired eyes filling with an expression of resignation. "I thought I might be able to manage her college fees, if her living expenses could be arranged. We were so sorry that she did not win a scholarship. You are quite sure that there is no chance for her here?" she asked pleadingly, for the fourth time. "She has set her heart on coming to Overton. College means so much to a girl, and Evelyn is so clever. It seems a pity that she must stop with only a high school education." Grace knitted her brows in earnest thought, while the pleading voice talked on. She felt an overpowering sympathy, not for the sister who wished to come to Overton, but for the sister who was now advocating her cause. And even as she thought the way in which one more girl might partake of the benefits of Harlowe House came to her. It was a way of sacrifice; she was not even sure that it could be done. Something in the expression of her face, however, seemed to inspire the woman opposite her with new hope. She leaned forward, with the eager question: "Am I wrong or does your face tell me that there is a chance for Evelyn?" For the first time she mentioned her sister's name. "'Evelyn,'" repeated Grace half musingly. "What a pretty name. How old is your sister, Miss Ward?" "She was eighteen last August." "I can make you no definite promise yet," returned Grace slowly. "Could you come to see me this afternoon at four o'clock? I shall know then whether the plan I have in mind can be carried out." "I will come," promised the woman eagerly, her eyes kindling with happy light. "I thank you for your kindness." Her voice trembled with gratitude. She rose to go, looking as though she would like to say more but could not find words in which to express herself.