I suppose I had better put these heavy things in first." She reached for her heavy blue coat and sweater, slowly depositing them in the bottom of the trunk.

Her raincoat followed the sweater, and she was in the act of folding her blue serge dress, when a knock sounded on the door, and the maid proclaimed in a monotonous voice, "Telegram, Miss Harlowe." The blue serge dress was thrown into the trunk, and Grace dashed from the room and down the stairs at the maid's heels.

Her father and mother were Grace's first thought.

What if something dreadful had happened to either of them! The bare idea of a telegram thrilled Grace with apprehension.

Her fingers trembled as she signed the messenger's book and tore open the envelope.