"I wish you were at Harlowe House this year with Emma and me." "I wish I were," sighed Kathleen, "but I didn't feel that it would be fair to apply for admission there.

You see, Grace, my salary on the newspaper, during the summer, is a generous one, and, by managing carefully, I can pay my expenses in college for the year with it.

I don't have to do that, however, for every week I write a story for the Sunday edition of our paper which more than pays my board at Wayne Hall.
Then I send in extra space articles and go out on special stories during the Christmas and Easter vacations.

I am never really very short of money, so I'm not eligible as a member of your household." "You are a clever, capable girl, Kathleen," averred Grace, with honest admiration, "and I am proud to be your friend." A long look of perfect understanding passed between the two.

It had come only after many days of misunderstanding and doubt.
"Dear Loyalheart, I can never forgive myself for making you so unhappy," Kathleen's crisp tones trembled.
"And I shall never forgive you if you mention it again," retorted Grace.
"You mustn't recall such things.