"Being poor doesn't count at Overton," she said, "I know a girl who lived in a bare, cheerless room in an old house in the suburbs of Overton and earned her way by doing mending for the students. She worked in a dressmaker's shop during her summer vacations too, and yet she was the chum of the richest girl in college." "Why didn't the rich girl help her if she thought so much of her?" inquired Evelyn rather sarcastically. "Because the girl wouldn't allow her to do so. She was too independent to accept help. She did not wish to become obligated to any one, not even her dearest friend." "Foolish girl," was Evelyn's contemptuous comment. "If one can't ask occasional favors of one's friends one might as well have none. I am very sure that I would take the goods the gods provide without murmuring. These extreme standards of ethics and honor are all very pretty in books, but not at all practical in every-day life." Grace made no reply. She was lost, for the instant, in a maze of disagreeable reflection. She was afraid she now understood only too well why Ida instead of Evelyn Ward had come to see her. In the Ward family the hard tasks had apparently been thrust upon the patient elder sister, while the younger reaped where she had not sown, without a conscientious qualm. And it was for this beautiful, selfish girl that she and Emma had curtailed their comfort. She almost wished she had been firm in her first refusal to consider taking another girl into Harlowe House. Then a vision of Ida Ward's thin face, lighted by two pleading eyes, rose before her. With an inward rebuke for her own grudging attitude, Grace squared her shoulders and resolved to look for only the best in this latest arrival. It took but a moment to hail an automobile bus which had just run into the station yard, and they were soon on their way to Harlowe House. Grace pointed out to Evelyn the various interesting features of Overton. They impressed the latter but little. "It must be a sleepy old town," she commented, as they passed through the quiet streets. She did, however, evince some slight interest in Vinton's, remarking lightly that she supposed she would never have money enough to buy a dinner there for herself, let alone ever inviting a guest. "Do not look at your college life through such pessimistic spectacles," advised Grace. "You will be sure to be unhappy." Evelyn made a pettish gesture. "You remind me of my sister, Miss Harlowe. She is forever preaching patience and optimism and all the other virtues in which I seem to be lacking." A bright flush rose to Grace's cheeks at this unparalleled rudeness. She cast a quick, curious glance at Evelyn, whose eyes were for the second fixed upon the campus which they were now nearing, and who appeared to be utterly oblivious of her impertinence. "This is the campus." Grace decided to overlook the pointed remark. "We are justly proud of Overton College and the campus."