"Oh, dear," sighed Grace, as she tried vainly to reach the two hooks
of her dark blue charmeuse gown that seemed only a sixteenth of an
inch out of reach, "I wish Anne were here. I can touch these two
hooks with the ends of my fingers but I can't fasten them. I'll have
to ask Mabel to hook me up when I get to Holland House." Giving up
in disgust, Grace slipped into her long, blue serge coat, carefully
adjusted her new fall hat that she had just received from home, and
catching up her gloves ran downstairs.

Mabel Ashe's graceful, welcoming figure leaning over the baluster
waiting for her was the first thing that attracted her attention as
she stepped inside the hall at Holland House.

"Come right up," invited Mabel. "We'll have a little while together
before dinner. Did you bring your notebook?"

"Yes," replied Grace. "Remember, you are to help me choose a subject
for my theme. You volunteered, you know."

"Not until after dinner, though, if you don't mind. Sit down here
and be comfy. This is my pet chair, but I insist on letting you have
it because you are company." She gently pushed Grace into a roomy
leather-covered armchair. Seating herself opposite Grace, Mabel fixed
her brown eyes almost gravely on her. "Now, Grace," she said
earnestly, "please tell me about this Miss Atkins of Wayne Hall."

"There isn't much to tell," replied Grace. "Did you ever see her?"

"Once."