The rest of us had had our fits of hysterical weeping at the idea of parting from one another, but Adelaide was always so superior to any weakness of that sort. What could be the matter?
Our great, last school day, so paradoxically called commencement, came at last. The exercises were in the evening, and we of the Amen Corner and many others of the girls would not leave the school until the following morning.
We received our diplomas in the school chapel, which had been beautifully decorated for the occasion. Buttertub’s father, who was a friend of Madame’s, addressed us at some length as we stood before him on the platform. I remember that Adelaide never looked more peerless, nor Milly more bewitching; and that Winnie, mischievous as ever, found a rose bug on her bouquet and could not forbear dropping it on Commodore Fitz Simmons’s bald head. The Commodore was in full uniform and had been shown to a front seat just beneath the platform. I think Winnie really meant to snap the rose bug at Stacey, but the projectile fell short of its aim. Then the sweet girl graduates in clouds of mull and chiffon, drifted into the school parlours, and there was a reception, and Adelaide and Milly were besieged by battalions of friends, but I was quite lonely and awkward, and held my bouquet and rolled diploma stiffly, until Winnie caught me about the waist and whirled me off for a little dance, for Madame had permitted this. After the dance there were refreshments in the dining-room, and we all went down, with the exception of Adelaide, who was on the reception committee, and had been stationed in the front parlour to receive any tardy guest. I met Professor Waite bringing up an ice as I went down the stairs, and Milly drew me into a corner, her eyes dancing with mischief as I entered the supper-room.
“Something is going to happen,” she said to me mysteriously. “I have given Professor Waite his opportunity, and if he doesn’t seize it and propose I shall never forgive him. I saw him moving around here, looking bored to death, and I asked him to please take an ice to Adelaide, who, I happened to mention, was all alone in the parlour. He seized the idea and the ice simultaneously. I saw resolve in his eye, and now we must keep people down here as long as we can.”
“What shall we do with Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong and Jim?” I asked. “They are all so proud of Adelaide they will be with her in a moment.”
“Winnie is in the plot and has special care of them. Jim thinks there never was quite so jolly a girl as Winnie. They are discussing the cabinet now. Mrs. Armstrong thinks that some one of us may be a somnambulist and have hidden the things in our sleep.”
“What a strategic little girl you are, Milly! What made you think of this opportunity for Professor Waite?”
“Oh! that was the way Stacey found his chance, you know. Speak of angels——How nice of you, Stacey, to bring me that salad. I am positively dying for something to eat. Wasn’t the Bishop too longsome for anything? I thought I should expire, and I was wild to get across the stage at Winnie, whose back hair was coming down. No, I shall not tell you what we were saying about you. Do get me some chicken salad. I can’t endure lobster;” and as the obedient Stacey ambled briskly away, Milly confided to me: “Do you know, Tib, Adelaide is beginning to care for Professor Waite? What makes me think so? Oh, I know the symptoms. She was packing so late last night that I nearly fell asleep, but not quite, for just as I was dozing off I saw her drop on her knees before her trunk with her face in a great white handkerchief, and while I was wondering where she ever got such a great sheet of a thing, it suddenly dawned upon me that it was the silk muffler which Professor Waite wrapped around her burned hands the night of our Halloween scrape. Suddenly it seemed to occur to her that I might be looking, and she turned to look at me, but I had my eyes shut and was snoring like an angel. Of course angels snore, Stacey Fitz Simmons. Did you ever catch an angel asleep? and if not what right have you to make fun of me? Dear me, there is the Bishop starting to go upstairs, and they don’t need him a bit—as yet.”
Milly darted across the room, planted herself squarely in the Bishop’s way, and exerted her powers of entertainment to such effect that Stacey became blindly jealous, though Buttertub had not come with his father, apparently having had quite enough of Madame’s young ladies and their entertainments.
And meantime, how was Professor Waite thriving with his wooing? Adelaide told me long afterward, so long that it was too late for any word of mine to set all right, and filled my heart with pity, not alone for the Professor, but, alas! for Adelaide also.