"We can ask some girl who sings to preside at the Shamrock booth and sing Irish songs as Nora O'Malley did," planned Grace. "We can't have the Mystery Auction, because we don't care to ask the girls for packages, and we can't have the Italian booth, either, it would be too hard to arrange, but we can have a gypsy camp and a Japanese booth and an English tea shop and two or three funny little shows. The best thing to do is to call a meeting of the club and put the matter before them. Almost every girl will know of some feature we can have." "I suppose the dean will allow us to use the gymnasium," mused Arline. "We had better get permission first of all. Then we can call our meeting." Grace looked at her watch. "I've stayed ten minutes over my hour, Arline," she reminded the little curly-haired girl. "Never mind," was the calm reply, "you can stay ten minutes longer in the library. Oh, Grace, don't look at her now, but who is that girl just sitting down at that end table? I am sure she lives at Wayne Hall. Some one told me she was a freshman." "If you had been calling faithfully on the Wayne Hall girls, you wouldn't need to be told the names of the new ones," flung back Grace. Then, allowing her gaze to slowly travel about the room, her eyes rested as though by chance on the girl designated by Arline. An instant later she had bowed to the newcomer in friendly fashion. "Who is she?" murmured Arline, her eyes fixed upon Grace. "Her name is Kathleen West," returned Grace in a low tone. "Don't say anything more. Here she comes." Kathleen was approaching their table, a bored look on her small, sharp face. "How are you?" she said nonchalantly. "I thought I'd come over here. Having tea alone is dull. Don't you think so?" Arline's blue eyes rested on the intruder for the fraction of a second. She resented the intrusion. "Miss West, this is Miss Thayer, of the junior class," introduced Grace good-naturedly. Both girls bowed. There was an awkward silence, broken by Kathleen's abrupt, "I knew I had seen you before, Miss Thayer," to Arline. "That is quite possible," said Arline, rather stiffly. "I believe I remember passing you on the campus." "Oh, I don't mean here at Overton," drawled Kathleen. "I saw you in New York with your father last summer." "With my father?" was Arline's surprised interrogation. "Yes. Isn't Leonard B. Thayer your father?" "Why, how did you know? Have you met my father?" Arline's blue eyes opened wider. "I've seen him," said Kathleen laconically. "I tried to interview him once, but couldn't get past his secretary." "Miss West is a newspaper woman, Arline," explained Grace. "That is, she was one. She has deserted her paper for Overton, however." "How interesting," responded Arline courteously. "Do you like college, Miss West?" "Fairly well," answered Kathleen. "It doesn't really matter whether I like it or not. I am here for business, not pleasure. Perhaps Miss Harlowe has told you how I happened to be here."