Alberta Goldsborough, the wealthy heiress, recognized her stately papa and fashionable mamma, and saluted them with a cold, young-ladyish bow as she sank into her seat.
Elfrida descried, seated away back in an obscure corner, the three honest country gentlemen whom she saucily designated “one pap and two unks.” And she audaciously kissed her hand to them with a loud smack as she popped into her place.
Erminie discerned, near the middle of the crowd, her revered father and idolized brother, and exchanged with them a bow and smile of recognition and joy. But, oh, fate of Tantalus! though she had not seen her father for ten months, nor her brother for five years, she could not either approach or speak to them; she could not even turn to Britomarte and point them out; she could only bow and smile, for silence and decorum were rigidly enforced upon the pupils on the commencement day at Bellemont College.
Britomarte, with her sad eyes wandering over the assemblage, saw not one familiar face. But Britomarte was almost alone in the world.
The ceremonies of the day began.
Now, as there is nothing in this wearisome world half so wearisome to an uninterested spectator as a school exhibition or a college commencement, and as this anniversary at Bellemont partook of both characters, I will spare my readers the details of the proceedings and discuss the whole affair with as few words as possible.
Professors preached and pupils prosed on the platform; while the spectators fanned themselves vigorously, or yawned behind fans of every description, from the plain palmleaf to the scented sandalwood, in the hall.
Teachers and scholars were alike in the highest state of exultation and—the deepest degree of fatigue.
The audience politely pronounced the affair to be very interesting and—heartily wished it over.
In fact the exercises of the day were only redeemed from the most ordinary monotony by the reading of Britomarte Conyers’ theme—“The Civil and Political Rights of Women.”