Judith shivered as she saw her name at the bottom of the list. How she wished she had spent more time on her speech—how could she put into words at all what she felt about the School?
She felt this more keenly than ever before as she stood arm in arm with Nancy and looked in through the windows of the dining-hall at the tables prepared for the Old Girls. She heard Nancy and Sally May exclaiming over the lovely irises which decked the long tables, but she was thinking of the girls who had gathered from all over the wide Dominion to visit again their old School. Judith had felt vaguely the same emotion as she saw the Old Girls marching into Big Hall in the morning, but she felt it now with a rush of warm feeling—School seemed infinitely more dear, more worth while, bigger. There must be something very big in York Hill, she thought, something very strong, to draw back every year these hundreds of Old Girls.
Nancy was pointing out celebrities. "That must be Kathryn Fleming. Isn't she simply stunning?" she said, as a tall, fair-haired woman in gold-and-white brocade entered the Hall; "and there's Judge Weston and Miss Fisken—what a gorgeous gown!—looks Chinese. I wonder who that small, black-haired girl is! She looks as if she played the violin or wrote plays or something."
"She probably stays at home and dusts the drawing-room," said Judith, laughing.
"Don't be horrid," pouted Sally May. "Oh, there's Mrs. Dexter. Wouldn't it be thrilling to be President? You'd make a good President, Judy, you're so tall. Come on,[1]
They found numbers of the New Girls already standing about under the Chinese lanterns admiring the work of the Decorating Committee, and some of them, we regret to add, casting hungry glances at the rolls and salad which were already on the table.
Judith found herself seated next to Sally May and opposite Frances, who was to reply to the toast to "Our first days at York Hill."
How they enjoyed their supper! For once, to be able, while at School, to have exactly what you desired to eat, limited only, of course, by the amount of the tax levied on each member! Marjorie and Edith, who had been responsible for the ordering of the food, had many congratulations passed down to their end of the table, and Sally May felt amply repaid for the trouble she and her committee had taken with the place cards when she heard the exclamations of delight on all sides.
Judith, already excited and keyed up by the events of the day, and susceptible as always to beauty in any shape or form, could hardly eat at all. It was an exquisite June evening. The magic and charm of the coloured lanterns, the warm splashes of colour made by the sweater coats and cushions, the soft, rosy glow of the fading sunset, and the silver of a young moon, all made for Judith a veritable fairy-land. If only she hadn't to answer the toast she could be perfectly and absolutely happy.