"That's Eleanor Trent, she's used to boys' rules," Lois explained.

"Then she's hopeless," Florence said with finality, "and she'll never get over it."

"Who's the girl that was guarding you?" Louise asked.

"That's Maud Banks; she's been a sub for only a little while," Polly said. "I put her on to take the place of a girl who didn't come back after Easter. Why?"

"I think she ought to be on the big team," Louise declared. "She's a splendid player."

Polly considered. "I guess you're right," she said.

"You and Lo and Bet pa.s.s as well as ever," Florence said. "Lois, where did you get that Princeton banner?" she asked, changing the subject abruptly.

"Frank gave it to me."

"It's coming down to-night and my banner takes its place," Polly said; "that is, if something happens."

"What?" Louise demanded.

But Polly's explanation was cut short by a timid tap at the door.

"Come in," called Lois. It was Phylis and Janet.

"We've come to take you out for a walk, sister," Phylis said to Florence. "You promised you'd come back right after practice and you didn't."

Florence laughed. "Mercy, what a rude awakening. Here I've been feeling just as if I were back again and then my small sister knocks at the door and reminds me I'm only a visitor!"

"Their coming makes me think of the way you two used to knock at our door," Louise said. "Remember?"

"Only Lo and Poll were never as respectful as Jane and Phylis," Florence teased, putting her arm around her sister. "They used to bounce in unannounced and eat up all our peanut b.u.t.ter."

"Florence, you shouldn't talk like that," her sister admonished her.

"You forget Polly and Lois are Seniors," she said with dignity.

"A thousand pardons!" Florence laughed. "So they are."

"I see you have your defenders just as we had," Louise remarked.

"I think it's time to go," Janet announced, and she didn't understand why everybody laughed.

"Tell us about the exhibition to-night," Louise said, as they started for their walk, and Janet explained:

"All the girls who are at all good, put things in," she concluded.

"These two friends of Miss Crosby are both artists and they're very important. I hope Lois gets the prize."

"Do you think she will?" Florence asked.

"I don't know, but Maud Banks says she's sure to," Janet replied.

Polly and Lois, after their visitors had left, hurried back into their sailor suits and joined the rest of the Seniors in the reception room, where the photographer was waiting.

Lois explained about the picture and led the way to the pond. He selected a rock and grouped the girls around it. This took so much time, that Lois hurried to the studio to find it was too late to make the one or two alterations on her canvas that she had wanted to.

"Oh, dear," she said to Miss Crosby; "I never realized how late it was getting. What will I do?"

"You'll leave your canvas just as it is," Miss Crosby answered. "I'm glad the light is poor. I didn't want you to make any changes. Come down to a.s.sembly Hall and help me to hang up the rest of the sketches, will you?" she asked.

The two artists who were to act as judges came in time for dinner. The girls had a glimpse of them as they pa.s.sed the guests' dining-room.

"Why, they're men," Betty exclaimed. "One's fat, old and bald, and the other one's young. I thought they were going to be women."

"No, of course not." Lois laughed. "Miss Crosby told me all about them, they're quite famous. Do you know I'm scared to death," she admitted.

There was no set time for the exhibition that night. The a.s.sembly Hall was open at seven-thirty, and the girls came in and looked at the pictures when they wanted to.

The two imposing visitors, who both wore tortoise sh.e.l.l rimmed gla.s.ses on broad black ribbons, walked about glancing at a picture now and then, and talking to the faculty.

"They make me awfully nervous; let's get out. I think some of the girls are dancing in English Room," Lois said. She was with Polly and Louise and Florence.

"Then how will we know who gets the medal?" Louise inquired.

"The bell's going to ring at nine o'clock," Polly explained. "Then everybody will come back, and the winner's names will be announced from the platform.

"Well, let's look once more at Lois' canvas," Florence said. "I'm crazy about it."

They crossed the room and stopped before a picture of an apple orchard in Springtime. Lois had chosen to paint it, because it was her favorite spot in the grounds, and she had put into it all the joy and sunshine of a May-day.

"Lo, it's good," Polly whispered earnestly. "It makes me want to dance."

"Have you seen Maud's sketches, they're great," Lois said. The critics were standing near and she felt suddenly self-conscious.

"I think the one of the chicken yard is awfully clever, but, of course I love the yellow dog best of all."

Maud, when she had heard of the exhibit, had chosen her puppy friend for one of her models. The girls admired the clever result, and then left the room.

At nine o'clock the bell rang. It was five minutes before all the girls were back in the room, and Lois was among the last. She was almost afraid to listen for the names. When everything was quiet, the older of the two men came to the edge of the platform--the medals in his hand.

"This unexpected, but none the less, charming evening," he began; "has caused me a great deal of pleasure. It is a privilege to be among you."

"Oh, do hurry," groaned Polly.

"And I am indebted to our friend Miss Crosby, for the honor. With the a.s.sistance of your faculty--whose judgment I am sure you respect most heartily," he added, with a quiet smile; "I have chosen that very delightful painting of the apple orchard--without hesitation--as the most noteworthy and promising canvas in the room. It is with the greatest pleasure that I present Miss Lois Farwell with the medal."

Lois walked up to the platform. Her head was swimming and all the color had left her cheeks.

"Thank you," she said, as the medal on its purple ribbon slipped into her hand. She seemed to be treading on air as she walked back to Polly.

Maud received the other medal for her clever and original treatment of the yellow dog; her comment was typical.