“What do you think of the camp idea, Aunt Katherine?” asked Cathalina.
“You would have a pleasant time together, and they say that the girls learn many things at these camps, besides having a sensible, outdoor life.”
“I want to go so much, and Betty hopes to go. We can all tell better about it when we get home.”
Commencement day in early June. The suggestion of it brings a picture of bright-faced girls, sheer white frocks, and June roses. Aunt Katherine, sitting with Isabel in the chapel, meditated quietly while waiting for the seniors to enter. Dr. and Mrs. Lancaster sat not far away, having arrived in time for the occasion, with regrets that they had missed class day and the other exercises. Aunt Hilary had had to content herself with sending gifts to her namesake.
And now came the time for the presentation of diplomas. On the platform sat the faculty with the trustees. It was an old story to some of them. Yet never did Miss Randolph fail to rise to the inspiration of the hour. “Beautiful woman,” thought Aunt Katherine, as she looked at the shining eyes and spiritual face of the woman who had so many young souls under her influence every year.
“Isn’t she wonderful?” whispered Cathalina to Hilary, as the girls, impressed with the dignity of the occasion, listened to her address to the class.
But it was when Cathalina’s name was called and she went up to receive her diploma that Aunt Katherine surreptitiously wiped away a tear, and looking over at Mrs. Lancaster, saw her putting away her handkerchief. For what our young people do means much to those who hold them dear.
“O, it’s over!” exclaimed Hilary, as she greeted her father and mother again and started to bring the girls, of whom she had so often spoken at home, to meet them. Cathalina was making a low bow to her aunt and presenting her diploma.
“Have it framed, Auntie! Put it in Uncle Morris’s collection of pictures; it has one of Greycliff on it.”