“Every one is to go to chapel after dinner,” someone started the order. It was passed on and on until all the girls of the first and second classes received the word.
The dresses which they had worn to dinner answered for such an informal affair as this must be, to judge from the manner of issuing the invitations.
As they quitted the dining-hall, Elizabeth looked about for Mary, but could not find her. Nora, Landis, Min and Anna Cresswell also were among the missing. Then she hurried to join Nancy and Mame.
“Mary is not to be found. Perhaps she has already gone to chapel.”
The audience hall was almost filled when they entered. Bright fans on the wing looked like a swarm of gay butterflies. The subdued hush of conversation came from all parts of the room. Elizabeth looked about but could not see her roommate.
“How perfectly awful the stage looks!” whispered Mame, who possessed the artistic temperament. “I think I could have decorated it better than that. I feel mournful at the mere looking at it.”
The stage had been robbed of its furniture. A high-backed chair and reading-desk of black walnut were the only pieces in sight. White roses were there in profusion but not one bit of color.
While conversation buzzed, and fans fluttered, Azzie, dressed as somberly as the rostrum looked, walked slowly down the main aisle. Her gown was of some thin black stuff. She suited her walk and expression to match the color of her dress. She wore no flowers. A big roll of music was in her hand.
“She’s going to play.” Each one straightened her shoulders and leaned eagerly forward, fairly holding her breath in anticipation, for Azzie’s fame as a pianist was far-reaching.
Moving slowly to the front of the rostrum, she seated herself at the piano. So she sat for a few moments without touching the keys.