Still, we've always been frank with each other.

I'll tell her the exact circumstances as soon as she comes home to luncheon, and let her decide what we had better do." Having determined upon her course of action Grace went downstairs again and was soon deep in the laying-out of next week's menu for Harlowe House, a task in which she had been engaged when Miss Ida Ward was announced.
It was now two weeks since Overton College had opened.

The thirty-two applicants for places in Harlowe House had, without exception, passed through the trying ordeal of their entrance examinations with varying degrees of success, but not one had actually failed.

They had come into the house, which was their Open Sesame to college, in twos and threes.
Few of them were pretty, but even the plainest of their faces bore the unmistakable stamp of intelligence that marks the scholar.

The half-brooding, anxious look in young eyes and the womanly dignity, prematurely gained through hand to hand conflict with poverty, were certain indications that the girls of Harlowe House were there for earnest work and not for play.
And now a thirty-third girl was knocking at the gate for admittance to the Land of College.