anticipate a pleasant evening. She
shook hands composedly with the Empress, and ran the gauntlet of
greetings with the other mistresses with equal credit, not an altogether
easy ordeal under the watching eyes of her companions. This preliminary
ceremony being finished, she thankfully slipped into a seat, and waited
for the business part of the tournament to begin.

The reception of the whole school lasted some time, and the Empress's
hand must have ached. Her mental notes as to the quality of the
handshakes she received would be publicly recorded next day from the
platform, with special condemnation for the limp, fishy, or
three-fingered variety on the one side, or the agonizing ring-squeezer
on the other. Miss Thomas, one of the music mistresses, seated herself
at the piano, and the proceedings opened with a violin-solo competition.
Ten girls, in more or less acute stages of nervousness, each in turn
played a one-page study, their points for which were carefully recorded
by the judges, marks being given for tone, bowing, time, tune, and
artistic rendering. As they retired to put away their instruments, their
places were taken by vocal candidates. In order to shorten the
programme, each was allowed to sing only one verse of a song, and their
merits or faults were similarly recorded. Several of the Intermediates
had entered for the competition. Rose Butler trilled forth a
sentimental little ditty in a rather quavering mezzo; Annie Turner,
whose compass was contralto, poured out a sea ballad--a trifle flat;
Nora Cleary raised a storm of applause by a funny Irish song, and
received marks for style, though her voice was poor in quality; and
Elsie Bartlett scored for St. Elgiva's by reaching high B with the
utmost clearness and ease. The Intermediates grinned at one another with
satisfaction. Even Gladys Woodham, the acknowledged prima donna of St.
Githa's, had never soared in public beyond A sharp. They felt that they
had beaten the Seniors by half a tone.

Piano solos were next on the list, limited to two pages, on account of
the too speedy passage of time. Here again the St. Elgiva's girls
expected a triumph, for Patricia Lennox was to play a waltz especially
composed in her honour by a musical friend. It was called "Under the
Stars", and bore a coloured picture of a dark-blue sky, water and trees,
and a stone balustrade, and it bore printed upon it the magic words
"Dedicated to Patricia", and underneath, written in a fi