She was turning to go up-stairs when she encountered Miss Laura, coming out of Miss Minton’s private sitting-room. Miss Laura was much more approachable than her sister, and would sometimes condescend to be quite friendly, even confidential with the girls. On the present occasion she stopped Gretel to inquire rather mysteriously: “Has she gone?” “Do you mean Fräulein?” asked Gretel. “Yes, the bus has just left.” “Well, I must say I am relieved,” said Miss Laura. “I was so afraid she would make a scene of some sort; those foreigners are so dramatic. She has quite upset Sister; she was so rude; really almost violent in her language. I should have been frightened to death, but Sister is always so calm. She assured the woman there was no reason for her leaving at once. It was merely a question of discontinuing the German classes during the war. Fräulein flew into a rage, and declared she would go by the first train, and that no earthly consideration would induce her to spend another night under our roof. Downright ungrateful conduct, I call it, after the care Sister took of her when she was laid up so long with bronchitis last winter. But then, what else can one expect from a German?” Again the hot blood rushed up into Gretel’s cheeks, and she hurried away that Miss Laura might not see the tears that had started to her eyes. “I don’t suppose they mean to be unkind,” she told herself, as she went up-stairs to her own room. “Perhaps Miss Laura didn’t even remember that Father was a German, but it does hurt when people say such things, and I can’t altogether blame Fräulein for being angry, although, of course, she had no right to be rude to Miss Minton.” CHAPTER III BREAKING-UP DAY It was the fourteenth of June, and “Breaking-Up” day at Miss Minton’s. For more than two months the United States had been at war with Germany, and during that time many things had happened. Even the quiet little Connecticut village, where Miss Minton lived, had begun to realize something of what war meant. There was a Service Flag waving from each of more than a dozen houses, and only the day before there had been a sad leave-taking at the station, when thirty boys had left for the nearest training-camp. Registration Day had come and gone, and more than ten million young men between the ages of eighteen and thirty had signed their names. Among the girls at Miss Minton’s, war was also beginning to seem very real. Amy’s brother had left Harvard, and gone for a month’s training before being sent overseas. One of Olive’s brothers had joined the Flying Corps, and the other was already on his way to France. Angel Thayer’s father had offered his services for foreign duty, and Gretel’s brother was doing Government work in Washington.