But the dance finally came to an end with a crash of melody, and though the youths and maidens applauded vigorously, the tired musicians put away their instruments and departed.
“Well, it’s over,” spoke Tom, regretfully, as he escorted his fair companion toward the dressing room.
“Yes, but it was—glorious while it lasted!” she exclaimed, with brightly sparkling eyes. She was herself again.
“When is the next one?” he asked, eagerly.
“Oh, you greedy boy!” she cried. “I’ll let you know, however. We can’t have them too often. The ogress objected to this one, as it was.”
“Meaning Miss Philock?” asked Tom.
“No one else. I’ll be out soon, and then we’ll go home. There are Madge and Mabel.”
Tom and his friends went to have a final cup of coffee, before starting off with the girls, and while they were drinking the beverage, Frank Simpson remarked:
“Well, we ought to know this week whether we’re going to have a Randall College any more or not.”