I had an opportunity to get into Wellington House last fall, but refused it." Grace noted that Mabel frowned slightly and set her lips as though determined to shut out an unpleasant memory.
To reach Wellington House was merely a matter of crossing one end of the campus.

Grace looked about her curiously as they were ushered into the long, old-fashioned hall that extended almost to the back of the house.
They entered the parlor at one side of the hall and sat down while Mabel excused herself and ran upstairs after Leona Rowe, the junior she had come to see.

She had hardly disappeared before a flaxen head was poked in the door and a surprised voice said: "For goodness sake, Helen Burton, when did you rain down?
You are just the one I want to see.

What do you think of to-morrow's German?
I can't translate it.

It's frightfully hard.