rolled melodiously over their heads. She never could translate
from hearing. Absently her glance sought the front pew where Miss More
had turned to watch them. The girl's wistful gaze caught the expression
of passionate regret in her deep-set eyes, and clung there fascinated for
an endless moment before tearing itself free.

After it was over, after the class had filed upon the platform to receive
their diplomas, after Prexie had delivered his annual address and the
procession of graduates, alumnae and faculty had marched out into the
golden sunshine, Bea drew aside to wait under an elm. Berta spied her and
beckoned, then came hurrying.

"Lila is over at the doors on guard to capture the various relatives and
start them toward the cottages for dinner. The trustees entertain the
alumnae in the main dining-room. The seniors will go to Strong Hall.
Aren't you ready?"

"I'm getting an impression," answered Bea, "gothic portals, graceful
elms, bare-headed girls in white, sun-flecked lawns and glimpse of the
sparkling lake beyond, groups intermingling----"

"I'll help give you that impression."

Bea slipped nimbly out of reach in time to escape the promised pinch--or
it may have been a squeeze.

"I've got it already--a hundred of them. You're in two or three. And
Robbie--do you see Robbie anywhere?"

Robbie approached at the moment. "Bea, have you noticed Miss More pass? I
found something last night in my sister's college scrapbook--her
memory-bill, you know. It is something for Miss More."

"Yes, over there half way to the main building. Look--that one in white
all alone. You can overtake her if you hurry, Robbie. Oh, Berta!" Bea
turned and held out one hand impulsively. "If you could only have seen
her eyes while she watched us in chapel! She was thinking of her own
class, how she had been driven away from them in disgrace. It was tragic.
She--she----" Bea gulped and caught herself back from falling over the
brink into the pit of palpable emotion. "In fact, I am almost sure
she--hm-m,--envied us."

She glanced apprehensively at her companion in dread of the usual quick
teasing rejoinder; but Berta was soberly gazing after Robbie.

"Robbie has dropped a paper, Bea," she said, "I saw it flutter. Come."

Bea flitted across the grass, her bright hair an aureole in the sunlight.
Her fingers seized the bit of white; her eyes read the message:

* * * * *

"Sunday evening