"She won't be patronizing Elinor after this," thought Patricia with a chuckle. "And Mr. Grantly has to swallow himself, too. He'll hate to have to eat humble pie to Bruce after all his din against Bruce's way of thinking. But they all like it, Mr. Lindley and the Halls and Mr. Spicer, too. Dear old Norn, how proud I am of you!"
Judith nudged her sharply. "Miss Jinny's got her hand unwrapped and it's a ring!" she hissed.
But Patricia was too much absorbed to heed.
"Hush!" she cautioned, slipping an absent hand into Judith's quivering palm. "Bruce is talking. Oh, isn't he dear, to say nice things of each of us. It's like commencement time, Ju, isn't it? All the good little girls get prizes, but I wish he wouldn't go back to that honorable mention of mine. I feel like an impostor."
"Well, you needn't," expostulated Judith sagely. "You got it, didn't you?"
"Y—yes," responded Patricia dubiously. "But I'll never be an artist. I sort of felt that long ago, but now I'm dead certain of it, and it seems like a sham to haul out that effort in the face of Elinor's splendid work."
"I don't feel that way at all—" began Judith, but their murmured comments halted at Bruce's next words.
"And I am glad to tell you that the youngest of our promising students has also made good in her own department," he said, with a smile at the corner where Judith reared her head with sudden pride.
"Miss Judith Kent Kendall has just had her first story accepted and printed in The Girl's Companion."
Patricia gasped, and in the moment's silence that fell she gave the promising authoress a little shake.