The first week in February found Grace looking forward to her week end in New York City. She had arranged to leave Overton on Friday at noon, and on Friday morning she opened her eyes with that feeling of exultation over something delightful just around the corner from her. Then she remembered. In a few hours she would again be with her beloved friends. She went about her work that morning humming under her breath. As she was to take the eleven-thirty train she had said a regretful good-bye to Emma before the latter went to her classes. "How I wish you were going with me, Emma," she had sighed. Emma's eyes had grown wistful for an instant, then she had launched forth into a multitude of pompous and wholly ridiculous reasons why her presence was needed at Harlowe House that made Grace laugh, and, for the time, banished the shadow from her face. Later as she climbed into the taxicab that was to take her to the station, Emma's face, with its funny little twisted smile, rose before her, and she experienced fresh regret at leaving her behind. It was hardly fair that she should have so much and Emma so little. How bravely Emma had stepped into the breach made by her father's sudden reverse of fortune. So deep was Grace in her own thoughts that she did not realize that they had reached the station until the car came to a sudden stop and the driver stood holding open the door. Handing him her suit case and traveling bag Grace stepped out of the car, and tendering the man her fare, gathered up her luggage and headed for the station. Seating herself on one of the wooden benches inside the station, she placed her traveling effects on the floor beside her and compared her watch with the station clock. Then she rose and going to the ticket window, which had just opened, purchased her ticket and inquired as to whether the train were on time. "Fifteen minutes late," was the brief reply. Grace went back to her bench, and, seating herself, opened a magazine she had brought with her. She was turning the leaves interestedly when a sudden banging of the station door caused her to glance up. Her eyes were riveted in surprise upon Evelyn Ward, who, suit case in hand, hurried over to her with, "Oh, Miss Harlowe, I wonder if you would mind my going to New York with you. I am invited to Althea Parker's for the week end, but she had to go down last night. I tried to see you at Harlowe House, but you had already gone. I would have spoken to you last night about going, but I wasn't quite sure whether I could make it or not." Evelyn's tones were far from concerned.