"We live in Burton, a little town about two hundred miles from here, with a population of six thousand people. I am a dressmaker. There are only Evelyn and I, and I am fifteen years older than she. Mother died when she was born. Father died only a year later and I have taken care of her all her life. She is very beautiful. One of the prettiest girls I have ever seen, and so clever." The plain face lighted as she described Evelyn. "How she loves her pretty sister," thought Grace. Over the tea, dainty sandwiches and cakes, Ida Ward became quite cheerful. When half an hour later she rose to take her leave, she looked really happy. "How can I thank you for what you have done for Evelyn?" she asked tremulously, her lips quivering. "My little sister will be so glad. I am sure she can't help being happy in this beautiful house." "Send her to us as soon as you can," advised Grace. "College has been open for over three weeks and she will have quite an amount of work to make up. This is Monday. May I expect her on Thursday?" "Yes, she can leave Burton early Thursday morning. There is a train which reaches here at two o'clock in the afternoon." "Very well. I will send some one to meet her," promised Grace. During the next two days Grace and Emma accomplished their moving so quietly that no one in the house knew of the new member the morrow was to bring. When everything had been put in place Emma declared cheerily that they would never miss the other room. At the last moment Grace decided to go in person to the train to meet Evelyn. The memory of Ida Ward's white patient face haunted her. For her sake her beloved sister should be cordially welcomed. Grace felt the deepest respect and sympathy for the older sister. "Miss Ward said her sister was very pretty," reflected Grace, then she looked a trifle dismayed. She had received absolutely no other description of the girl she was to meet. She did not know whether Evelyn Ward was short or tall, stout or thin, dark or fair. "I'll simply have to use my eyes and guess," was her mental comment, as she walked briskly along the station platform just as the train whizzed down the track. Her alert eyes scanned the nearest car steps where the porter was helping a crotchety old man to the platform. Behind him, came a stout middle-aged woman and two children. Grace scanned the next set of steps. Then, far up the platform she saw a tall, slender, blue-clad figure walking toward her at a leisurely pace. The girl carried a small handbag and a suit case. When she came directly opposite Grace she paused, then, after a deliberate survey, walked forward with outstretched hand. "Aren't you Miss Harlowe?" she asked sweetly. "If you are, I am Evelyn Ward." CHAPTER XI EVELYN WARD, FRESHMAN