"Wonder what the next cla.s.s will be like?"

Florence Guile was gazing into the fire.

"Not much, I'm afraid," she drawled. "They're too studious."

"I've been here four years, and it breaks my heart to leave," Louise spoke for the first time.

"It isn't as bad for you and Florence as it is for the rest of us," some one answered. "You're both going to college next spring-lucky dogs-while we will have to go in for society-awful thought."

"But college won't be Seddon Hall," Louise replied. "Wonder if they'll miss us?"

"The Freshmen will. Oh, what a cla.s.s they're going to make when they are Seniors! I hope they all come back," Mary Reeves exclaimed.

"That reminds me-What about telling Polly and Lois about tomorrow?"

demanded Louise. "Mrs. Baird said to wait until after the musical. She agrees with us that none of the 'Sofs' will do, but she doesn't want them to have time to grumble."

"We forgot all about it," Madelaine gasped. "You and Florence go and ask them now, they adore you. But hurry back," she called as the two girls started for the school.

Polly and Lois were in the latter's room amid confusion, heaps of clothes, shoes, and books. Polly was curled up on the bed brushing her hair, and Lois was sitting on the window seat, her elbow on her knee and her chin cradled in her hand. They were discussing the prospects of the next winter without the Seniors.

Polly had just given vent to a deep sigh and the words:

"It will never be quite the same without them."

And Lois was saying:

"Fancy the Senior table without Louise," when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in," called Polly, and Florence and Louise entered the room.

"I've come to thank you two precious infants for that beautiful basket of flowers," Louise began. "It was mighty thoughtful of you, and I do appreciate it so much."

Lois and Polly were so confused by the sudden entrance of the very persons they had been talking about that they could only stammer:

"Oh, it wasn't anything, really!"

"But we've something more important than that to say," Florence announced, and then waited for Louise to break the news.

Polly and Lois exchanged glances.

"It's another favor," laughed Louise. "Do you think you could act as ribbon girls for us tomorrow?" Then pretending not to hear the joyful gasps of surprise, she continued: "You'll have to come down to church tomorrow morning when we rehea.r.s.e the procession and we'll show you what to do. Will you do that for us?"

It had come, and though both girls had half expected it, it was a tremendous surprise.

"Oh, Louise, you know we'd love to do it!" cried Lois.

"It's most too good to be true," Polly exclaimed excitedly, then very solemnly she added to Florence: "To think we will really help you graduate! It's the most thrilling thing that ever happened to me in my whole life!"

"I'm so glad you will do it for us," smiled Florence, and turning to Louise she added: "We'd better go back to the girls. I think they'll be waiting for us. It's almost time to serenade Mrs. Baird."

Polly and Lois, left alone, could do nothing but look at each other. At last Lois gave a thoroughly contented sigh.

"Who says we're not in luck?" she asked.

"It's a perfect ending to a perfect year," replied Polly, putting her arm around her friend. "You know-"

"Hush!" whispered Lois. "They're singing!"

They opened the window and leaned far out upon the ledge. Through the warm night air came the sound of the Seniors' voices singing their last farewell, beneath Mrs. Baird's window, in accordance with the old Seddon Hall custom.

CHAPTER XXI

COMMENCEMENT DAY

The sun was just peeping over the red-tiled roof of the gym, as Polly and Lois stole softly out of the house and walked slowly in the direction of the woods. The day was warm and clear with the wonderful freshness of early morning. The ground was covered with millions of cobwebs and sparkling dewdrops that danced in the sunshine.

"Commencement Day at last," Polly began, speaking in a subdued whisper, for they were still near the school windows.

"It couldn't have been more glorious," replied Lois. "I think I would have died if it had dared to rain."

They walked on a little way in silence, and then Polly said very seriously:

"It's our last day together. I'm glad you thought of this walk. We probably won't have another chance to be alone."

"I know," returned Lois. "Polly, I can't bear to think of this summer without you."

"Oh, don't remind me of it!" Polly pleaded. "Think how I'll miss you. We can write, of course, but let's cheer up. We mustn't spoil this beautiful morning by getting the blues."

They linked arms and continued their walk. The seriousness of their talk had caused them to halt in the middle of the path.

"Where will we go?" questioned Lois.

"We've time to walk as far as the brook before breakfast," Polly suggested, "and we can say good-by to all the dear old spots on the way."

The brook was visited, as were all the other places, the crow's-nest, the old wall, the ruin, and the rest of the landmarks that were dear to the heart of every Seddon Hall girl.

On the whole it was not a very cheerful walk, and when the girls returned to school in time to join the line for breakfast, they were rather sad and quiet. It was not long, however, before they caught the general spirit of excitement that prevailed and were as jolly as the rest.

"What time do you want us to practice, Louise?" Polly called as she caught sight of the busy Senior president in the corridor after breakfast.

"We are going to leave here for church at ten o'clock sharp. Be ready and wait outside Mrs. Baird's office for us," Louise answered as she hurried past.

Polly and Lois were ready and waiting many minutes before it was time to go, and it seemed hours to them before the Seniors a.s.sembled and Mrs.

Baird gave the word to start. They walked hurriedly down the steep hill which leads to the village and then on to the little old church covered with ivy, located at the farthest end of the main street.