"We saw Anne as 'Ophelia' last Friday night," Arline wrote. "After the play father gave a little supper for her at our house and invited the Southards, Mabel and Mr. Ashe, Elfreda, Miriam Nesbit and her brother. Miriam came to New York to visit and shop, and it is not hard to guess why her brother came with her. We were all so surprised to see her, and so delighted. She is staying with the Southards, and, Grace, I do believe Everett Southard is in love with her. It is hard to say whether she returns his love, for she doesn't manifest the slightest sign of it. Wouldn't it be splendid if they did decide to go through life together? He is so clever, and a great actor too. Mabel's lawyer has won the most difficult case he ever fought for. He has persuaded Mabel to wear his ring. Their engagement is to be announced next week. I suppose you will hear from Mabel before many days. How I wish you were here. We all miss you so. Can't you come to New York for a week end before Easter? Do try to arrange it. I have so many things to tell you. It would take an age to write them. Think it over and decide to come. With my dearest love, Arline" Grace finished the letter with a happy sigh. She would try to manage to run down to New York for a week end. She wondered how long Miriam intended to stay in the city and she smiled faintly over Arline's comment regarding Miriam and Everett Southard. It was not news to her. Consulting the calendar that hung above the desk, she decided to go the first week in February, and began to plan her work accordingly. In spite of her secret fears that everything was too perfect to last, not only was her varied household serene, but prospering as well. From the time the Harlowe House girls became a self-governing body the question of putting money in the treasury had been continually agitated. One way and another had been suggested, but it was not until the Christmas holidays that the inspiration had come in the shape of a most toothsome batch of caramels which Louise Sampson had descended into the kitchen and made, one snowy, blustery evening when the club had assembled in the living-room for a social session. The caramels were a signal success, and when Cecil Ferris eyed one of the delicious brown squares lovingly before popping it into her mouth, then asked reflectively, "Why couldn't we make caramels and sell them to the Overton girls?" the idea was hailed with cries of "Great," "A good idea." "We could easily sell pounds of them." With one accord they had besieged Louise Sampson with curious questions as to how she had made the caramels and the cost of the ingredients. Louise had laughingly refused to tell her recipe.