And so the 18th of June dawned, and found Mattie waking me up to see what a fine day it was.
"Bella and Joan have backed out," she said, disdainfully. "But I've made them promise not to tell of us. Now, Cecy, you leave the getting away to me. When eleven o'clock strikes, you leave the school-room, slip up here and dress, and put your duster over your dress, while I'm with Miss Harding. Then just march down coolly to the front hall, and you'll see."
"I SEE MYSELF HURRYING INTO MATTIE'S DRESS."
How perfectly I can recall that morning! I see myself now hurrying into Mattie's dress, tying on the sash and beads, and then slipping guiltily down to the front hall, which was quite deserted, and where I stood for a moment trembling, yet excited and happy. And then Mattie appeared from a side door, caught my hand, and putting her finger on her lips, hurried me out, down the garden, and into the road.
Just below the school garden we came upon a rockaway, in which a young girl, very like Mattie in general style, and a tall boy of sixteen were seated.
"Hello!" the boy called out, and Mattie, looking very delighted, said:
"Here's Cecilia Martin, I told you I'd bring. This is Mr. Bob Rivers, Cecilia, and Miss Rivers."
Then this was Bob! I looked, trying to admire; but Bob was not like Philip Sydney in any way. He was stout and red-faced, and decorated like a young man of fashion; and Kate Rivers was a pert miss of fourteen, quite unlike my dear Laura.
These two, it appeared, had arranged with Mattie, and we were to drive with them to the Academy.