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Page 60
"I was awfully surprised when she asked me to play," confided Grace to her
chums on the way home from school that afternoon.
"Oh, that's nothing," said Jessica. "She ought to feel honored to think
you consented. You are really an Oakdale celebrity, you know."
"Please remember when you are basking in the light of her senior
countenance that you once had friends among the sophomores," said Nora in
a mournful tone.
"I consider both those remarks verging on idiotic," laughed Grace. "Don't
you, Anne?"
"Certainly," replied Anne. "But let me add a word of caution. Don't allow
this mark of senior caprice to turn your head. Remember you are----"
"You're worse than the others," cried Grace, "Let's change the subject."
Saturday proved a beautiful day, and with a light heart Grace started for
the links with her golf bag strapped across her shoulder. The senior whose
name was Ethel Post, sat waiting for her on one of the rustic benches set
under a tree at one side of the starting place. She greeted Grace
cordially and the two girls set to work without delay to demonstrate their
prowess as golfers. The caddies, two small boys of Oakdale, who could be
hired at the links by anyone desiring their services, carried the girls'
clubs and hunted lost balls with alacrity.
Miss Post found that Grace was a foeman worthy of her steel. The young
girl's arm was steady, and she delivered her strokes with decision. Grace
came out two holes ahead.
Miss Post was delighted. "I hope you will golf with me often, Miss
Harlowe," she said cordially. "It is so seldom one finds a really good
player."
"I am fond of all games and outdoor sports," replied Grace, "but I like
basketball best of all. Did you attend any of our games during the winter,
Miss Post?"
"No," answered the senior. "I am not much interested in basketball. I
really paid no attention to it this year, and haven't attended a game
since I was a freshman. Speaking of basketball," continued Miss Post, "I
picked up a paper last fall with a whole lot of basketball plays written
on it. It was labeled 'Sophomore basketball signals,' and I turned it over
to one of the girls in your class. She happened to be on the team, too,
and seemed very glad to get it. I presume it was hers, although she didn't
say so."
At the mention of the word signals, Grace pricked up her ears. As Miss
Post innocently told of finding the list, Grace could hardly control
herself. She wanted to get up and dance a jig on the green. She was about
to learn the truth at last.
Trying to keep the excitement she felt out of her voice, Grace asked in a
low tone, "Whom did you return it to, Miss Post?"
"Why, Miss Nesbit," was the answer. "I was inside the campus when I found
it, and just then she passed me on the walk. I knew she was a sophomore,
and thought it best to get rid of it, as I would probably have forgotten
all about it, and it never would have been returned."
"Quite true," Grace replied, but she thought to herself that a great deal
of unhappiness might have been avoided if Miss Post had only forgotten.
The talk drifted into other channels. Miss Post told Grace that she
expected to sail for Europe as soon as school was over. In the fall she
would return and enter Wellesley. She had crossed the ocean once before,
and had done the continent. This time she intended to spend all of her
time in Germany. Grace decided her new acquaintance to be a remarkably
bright girl. At any other time she would have listened to her with
absorbed interest, but try as she might, Grace could not focus her
attention on what was being said. One thought was uppermost in her mind,
that Miriam was the real culprit.
What was to be done about it? She would gain nothing by exposing Miriam to
her classmates. There had been too much unpleasantness already. If there
was only some way that Miriam could be brought to see the folly of her
present course. Grace decided to tell Anne the news that night and ask her
advice.
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