again and reached for Lila in their flight.
"I'm 'most sure we look like nymphs flying through the glades, with our
draperies blowing in the lines of swift motion. I love to run when I feel
like it. Robbie Belle, shall we ever dare to run when we get home?"

Robbie did not hear her. From her seat on the steps she gazed at Berta
who was standing before the ranks of familiar faces, her eager face
alight with the exhilaration of the hour. Once she threw back her head,
laughing at some ridiculous verse. Her eyes sought Robbie's for an
instant, smiled, then danced away again. Robbie swallowed once,
unconsciously, and moved closer to Bea.

In a semicircle sweeping around the group of singers, sophomores and
stray juniors and many a wandering alumna in a flower-decked hat had
gathered to listen. In a pause between the songs. Robbie surveyed them
gravely, unrecognizing any of the older guests until presently one face
stood out vaguely familiar in the clear twilight. It was a beautiful
face, framed by dusky hair beneath the wreath of crimson roses on her
hat. The eyes were dusky too and deep-set. They were staring at Robbie
with an intensity of grieving affection that contrasted sharply with the
stern, almost resentful, expression of her finely cut mouth.

As Robbie gazed back in fascinated perplexity, the face suddenly curved
into a smile so tenderly radiant that Robbie felt quite dazzled for a
moment. Involuntarily she smiled back, while striving to grasp the dim
recollection. Who could it be? She had surely seen her before somewhere.
But where? At college? At home? Where was it? Slowly a vision grew
distinct in her groping memory. It was a vision of Elizabeth, her sister,
lifting a photograph from a pile of others. "This," she had said, "is my
Jessica. She knows all my family from their pictures, and some day she
shall come home with me and meet you your own selves. She wishes Robbie
Belle were to enter college before we finish. Robbie will be a senior
when we go back for our fifth year reunion."

Robbie's chest heaved abruptly under the shock of identifying the face
amid the encircling throng. It was Jessica More, Elizabeth's best friend
at college. This was the June of her class reunion. Robbie Belle was a
senior. But Elizabeth was not there, as she had planned. Jessica had been
expelled before she graduated, and Elizabeth had died.

Before the singing was over, Jessica had disappeared. Then in the rush of
last things