e Club sang.

Young Hartwell proved to be a good speaker, and his ringing voice
reached even the topmost tier of seats. Billy was charmed and
interested. Everything she saw and heard was but a new source of
enjoyment, and she had quite forgotten the thing for which she was to
"wait," when she saw the ushers passing through the aisles with their
baskets of many-hued packages of confetti and countless rolls of paper
ribbon.

It began then, the merry war between the students below and the throng
above. In a trice the air was filled with shimmering bits of red, blue,
white, green, purple, pink, and yellow. From all directions fluttering
streamers that showed every color of the rainbow, were flung to the
breeze until, upheld by the supporting wires, they made a fairy lace
work of marvelous beauty.

"Oh, oh, oh!" cried Billy, her eyes misty with emotion. "I think I never
saw anything in my life so lovely!

"I thought you'd like it," gloried Bertram. "You know I said to wait!"

But even with this, Class Day for Billy was not finished. There was
still Hartwell's own spread from six to eight, and after that there were
the President's reception, and dancing in the Memorial Hall and in the
Gymnasium. There was the Fairyland of the yard, too, softly aglow
with moving throngs of beautiful women and gallant men. But what Billy
remembered best of all was the exquisite harmony that came to her
through the hushed night air when the Glee Club sang Fair Harvard on the
steps of Holworthy Hall.

CHAPTER XXXV

SISTER KATE AGAIN

It was on the Sunday following Class Day that Mrs. Hartwell carried out
her determination to "speak to William." The West had not taken from
Kate her love of managing, and she thought she saw now a matter that
sorely needed her guiding hand.

William's thin face, anxious looks, and nervous manner had troubled
her ever since she came. Then one day, very suddenly, had come
enlightenment: William was in love--and with Billy.

Mrs. Hartwell watched William very closely after that. She saw his eyes
follow Billy fondly, yet anxiously. She saw his open joy at being with
her, and at any little attention, word, or look that the girl gave him.
She remembered, too, something that Bertram had said about William's
grief because Billy would not live at the Strata. She thought she saw
something else, also: that Billy was fond of William, but that William
did not know it; hence his frequent troubled scrutiny of he