And now Molly was handing around nut cake and cloud bursts, it seemed almost for the last time, and after that these bright spirits in kimonos flitted away to their rooms.
A little later, after darkness and quiet had descended, an ecstatic little giggle broke from Judy, lying alone and staring at the dim outline of her window. It was too soft a sound to disturb the tired sleepers in the adjoining rooms, but it meant that Judy had an idea,—an idea that she could see already realized by the aid of her remarkable imagination.
Her mind had been reviewing the talk of the evening and revolving about each of the girls in turn;—Edith and Katherine and Molly, literary and ambitious; Nance, serious and studious; Jessie, pretty, romantic and destined for marriage; and Margaret, the able and willing champion of suffrage. And Judy had smiled as she began to recall certain hours when Margaret's enthusiasm had waxed high, even so far back as Freshman year, and her first class presidency. That thought had started others, and as Judy remembered various amusing incidents of the four years, her "idea" had flashed upon her. It was then that Judy had hugged herself and laughed aloud, but it was several nights later that she shared with the other girls her inspiration.
They had gathered in Otoyo's little room that night,—just the eight close friends who now grasped every opportunity for one more good time together. They were a little inclined to sadness, for they had all been busy with those extra duties that point directly to the closing days of college life.
Some had posed before the class photographer's camera, some had borne the weariness of having gowns fitted, and at least two had practiced their parts for the commencement exercises.
Margaret and Jessie were humming the chorus of one of the Senior class songs and Otoyo was just beginning to make the tea, when Judy slipped out of the room with a word of excuse and a promise to return.
Molly turned lazily to Nance who sat close beside her on the couch and whispered, "Judy is as nervous as a witch these days. She has probably thought of something to add to her list!"
"Oh, that list!" returned Nance. "She has everything on it now from white gloves to a trunk strap, and still it grows!"
"'Seniors, seniors, seniors,'" chanted Margaret and Jessie dreamily, watching Otoyo as she deftly arranged her dainty cups and saucers on beautiful lacquered trays.
Edith and Katherine were quietly disputing some point about the class program and absent-mindedly accepting lemon for their tea, when the door opened and a woman draped closely in black stepped into the room.