“Oh, never mind,” Dot said, mysteriously, “only hurry.”
They were no sooner in the Assembly Hall again before Mrs. Baird tapped the little desk bell for silence.
“Girls, the Seniors have decided to award the prize of the evening to Jeanne D’Arc, impersonated by Lois Farwell. Lois, will you come here, dear?”
The girls made an opening through the center of the room. Lois, too mystified for words, walked slowly up to the platform. Mrs. Baird presented her with a tiny silver loving cup. “This gives me very great pleasure, my dear,” she said smiling, “because Jeanne D’Arc is one of my favorite heroines, too.”
Lois tried to stammer her thanks. Just then Louise Preston stepped forward with a wreath of laurel. “Here’s the crown that goes with it, Lo,” she whispered. “Kneel down.”
Lois knelt on the lower step, and Louise placed the wreath on her head.
“I crown you the most beautiful picture of the evening,” she said. And the girls broke out in heartiest applause.
“I knew it, I knew it,” Miss Porter whispered to Miss King. “She’s exquisite. See how her eyes sparkle when she blushes. She’s exactly the
sensitive, delicate type, for a Jeanne D’Arc.”
“She is lovely,” Miss King agreed, in her frank way. “But if I’d had the awarding of the prize, Polly would have had it. She’s a splendid girl, she gave me a sweater, as well as a tam for Martha. I love that spirit.”