Later she turned to go, and it was then that she saw in the line a face that she knew--a face that drooped with such a white misery of spent strength that she hurried straight toward it with a low cry.
"Miss Greggory!" she exclaimed, when she reached the girl.

"You look actually ill.

Are you ill ?" For a brief second only dazed questioning stared from the girl's blue-gray eyes.

Billy knew when the recognition came, for she saw the painful color stain the white face red.
"Thank you, no.

I am not ill, Miss Neilson," said the girl, coldly.
"But you look so tired out!" "I have been standing here some time; that is all." Billy threw a hurried glance down the far-reaching line that she knew had formed since the girl's two tired feet had taken their first position.
"But you must have come--so early! It isn't twelve o'clock yet," she faltered.
A slight smile curved Alice Greggory's lips.
"Yes, it was early," she rejoined a little bitterly; "but it had to be, you know.