"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 assistance 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.
"Oh, I say, thanks a lot!" she said, as she accepted it.