Before they went on duty at the Hall, the Club proceeded in a body to pay their respects to the graduating class. There were so many 1914's that they extended all around the large room and before them an unending line of people passed, shaking hands and offering congratulations.
Mrs. Morton stood between her father and Dr. Hancock before a bust of Bishop Vincent that gazed benevolently at the procession as it wound past the corner. The children claimed her as a "sweet girl graduate" and Roger greeted his grandfather as if he were only an older student in his own school.
"You youngsters needn't be feeling so humorous," ejaculated Dr. Hancock. "The C. L. S. C. will catch you at some time in your life if it has to wait until you are seventy, so you might as well read the Course as soon as you are out of school, and get it out of the way."
Behind the Mortons and Hancocks came Dorothy, her thin little face beaming with delight at the meeting that was coming.
"This is my mother, Mrs. Morton. Mother, this is Ethel Brown's mother and Ethel Blue's aunt."
The hands of the two women met in a long clasp, and they gazed into each other's eyes with instant liking.
"You have been kindness itself to my little girl," murmured Mrs. Smith.
"We can never forget her efficiency and helpfulness when Father was ill," returned Mrs. Morton; "and, if you'll allow me to say so, my mother, Mrs. Emerson, is a great admirer of yours."
"Have I met your mother?"
"You've been teaching her to make wonderful embroideries."