Robbie’s chest heaved abruptly under the shock of identifying the face amid the encircling throng. It was Jessica More, Elizabeth’s best friend at college. This was the June of her class reunion. Robbie Belle was a senior. But Elizabeth was not there, as she had planned. Jessica had been expelled before she graduated, and Elizabeth had died.
Before the singing was over, Jessica had disappeared. Then in the rush of last things Robbie forgot her for a time. Some of the seniors hurried away on hospitable duties bent, for numerous relatives had already arrived. There were to be informal gatherings in different rooms. A few went to the Phi Beta Kappa lecture in the chapel. To tell the truth, however, these were but few indeed, for to the seniors the last evenings were too precious, to be wasted on mere scholarly discourse. Probably Jessica had gone there with the rest of the alumnæ, reflected Robbie Belle as she sat beside Berta and the others in the soft sweet darkness. With arms intertwined they talked low or fell silent, lingering over this farewell to the dear college days.
“I love everybody in the class,” whispered Lila once.
“In the college,” amended Bea promptly.
“Oh, in the whole world!” exclaimed Berta.
Robbie nodded assent so solemnly that Bea leaned down to peer at her more closely. “A regular Chinese mandarin,” she teased, “or are you nodding in your sleep? You approve of Berta’s breadth evidently. Why do people always speak about the value of being broadened? I think it is nobler to be deep than broad, I do. I’d rather divide my heart in four pieces than in forty billion.”
“There are two hundred in the class,” said Robbie, “and there were only one hundred in my sister’s class, but I am quite sure that they did not love each other any more than we do.”
SHE HELD BOTH HANDS, SMILING