"It was too bad, but we couldn't help laughing," murmured Janet.
"Poor old Irmie, you took it sporting!" sympathized Ethelberga.
"You'll like your dress all the more when it really comes," comforted Laura.
When Irma's parcel arrived the next day her room-mates, having played their joke upon her, had the grace to be nice and to admire the new frock, which was a charming creation in blue, and suited its owner admirably. They went out of their way to be pleasant about it, and Avelyn lent a hair ribbon which exactly matched the shade of colour, while Laura offered a chain of Venetian beads. They all felt, as they dressed for the festival, that if Irma's costume eclipsed the rest of them, she deserved her little triumph for keeping her temper.
"It's a shame to have to put a coat over it," said Ethelberga.
"Well, she certainly can't stand outside in the cold with only that thin dress on," decreed Laura.
The ceremony was to take place at three o'clock, and shortly before that hour all the school, in hats and coats, were marshalled outside to the spot where the new hall was to be erected. It was a cold, grey January afternoon, with one or two snowflakes floating down, and everybody stood and shivered. Some of the invited guests were keeping warm in the house, and others strolled out to the scene of action. The girls, drawn up in line, nodded and smiled to many friends from the town. They were cold, and impatient for the proceedings to begin. Waiting is weary work on a January afternoon. Their talk, which at first had been low and subdued, began to buzz, and rose higher and higher.
"What a disgraceful noise!" said Adah. "It's all those wretched Hawthorners. If Miss Thompson brings out the Bishop while all this clamour is going on she'll be thoroughly ashamed of the school. Less noise, girls! Do you hear?"
The girls heard perfectly well, but they did not heed, and the hum of unrestrained conversation continued. Adah waxed desperate.
"This can't go on! It mustn't!" she said indignantly.