I'm the most harmless old woman in the world." Then she tried to get a glimpse of Anne's downcast, crimson face.
"I wanted particularly to meet you, child," went on Mrs.Gray, "because I hear you are a formidable rival of the best pupil in the freshman class.

That is a great boast for your friends to make for you, my dear.
Miriam Nesbit is a famously smart girl, I'm told.

But I wanted to meet you, too, because you bear the name I love best in the world." Here the old lady's voice became very soft, and the girls suddenly remembered that the young daughter had been called Anne.

Was there not a memorial window, in the chapel of the High School, of an angel carrying a lily and underneath an inscription familiar to them all: "In Memory of Anne Gray, died in her freshman year, aged sixteen"?
The girls moved off quietly, conversing in low voices, leaving Anne alone with her new friend.
"You are a very little girl to be so clever," said Mrs.Gray, patting one of Anne's small wrists as she looked into the dark eyes.

"Where do you live, dear ?" "On River Street," replied Anne undergoing the scrutiny calmly, now she found herself alone.
"River Street ?" repeated Mrs.Gray, trying to recall whom she had ever known living in that strange quarter of the town.