"Oh, it was a bill from Hanford's. I--" Grace stopped short and stared at Emma. A horrible suspicion had seized her. She was afraid that she now understood the meaning of the bill she had received. In one of those curious, illumining flashes, which sometimes reveal in an instant what seems hopelessly obscure, she had hit upon the truth. Briefly she outlined the situation to Emma, who had long been her confidante. "You'd better let matters rest till to-morrow," advised Emma. "It's too late to try to find her to-night. We would only create comment and arouse suspicion if we telephone to the houses where her friends live. It wouldn't surprise me if she had left Overton for good and all." "We must find her," declared Grace with decision. "What will you do with her if you do find her?" "I don't know. That will depend entirely upon her. You are right, though, about waiting until morning. We must protect her from the consequences of her own foolishness. For she isn't wicked, Emma. She has been carried away by vanity and love of dress. Perhaps if we gave her another chance she would live all this down and be a different girl." "Perhaps," Emma's tone was skeptical. "For the sake of the community at large let us hope for this much-to-be-desired metamorphosis." But the next morning brought news of Evelyn in the shape of a letter addressed to Grace, which came on the first delivery of the mail for the day. With eager fingers Grace opened it. A slip of blue paper fluttered to the floor as she unfolded it. Picking it up she saw it was a money order made payable to Evelyn Ward, then she read: "DEAR MISS HARLOWE: "When you receive this letter I shall be far away from Harlowe House. I have done dreadful things and I cannot face you. All I can do is to go away where no one knows me, and begin over again. I used the money Ida sent me in the fall for my college fees to buy an evening dress. Then I told you that she was ill. I cried purposely to gain your sympathy because I knew about the Semper Fidelis Fund and was sure you would help me. I meant to pay it all back to you, and so I am going to New York to get work and do it, even though it takes me a long, long time. "But there is something still more dreadful to tell you. I wanted another new evening gown to wear to the Willston dance. I had paid my college fees for the year, so I thought I could take the money that Ida sent me for my payment and buy a gown and other things which I wanted. But Ida wrote and said she couldn't send the money just then, so I went to Hanford's department store and bought the things. I had them charged to your account. When the bill came I was terribly frightened. I thought they wouldn't send it for a long time. I just happened to see it in the bulletin board, so I took it out and tore it up.