In a few hours she would again be with her beloved friends.

She went about her work that morning humming under her breath.
As she was to take the eleven-thirty train she had said a regretful good-bye to Emma before the latter went to her classes.

"How I wish you were going with me, Emma," she had sighed.

Emma's eyes had grown wistful for an instant, then she had launched forth into a multitude of pompous and wholly ridiculous reasons why her presence was needed at Harlowe House that made Grace laugh, and, for the time, banished the shadow from her face.
Later as she climbed into the taxicab that was to take her to the station, Emma's face, with its funny little twisted smile, rose before her, and she experienced fresh regret at leaving her behind.

It was hardly fair that she should have so much and Emma so little.