seeming to mark a parting of
the ways, was bitter sweet--bright with hopes of the joys to come, but
tinged with regret for "the great glad days" that were now left behind.

The School gave them a great ovation. Judith, looking at the group of
prefects and captains who received a special pin as a badge of honour,
echoed Nancy's cry--how COULD they get along without them next year?

Miss Meredith held a reception afterwards on the lawn, for it was a
perfect June day. Judith carried her prizes proudly for Aunt Nell and
Uncle Tom to inspect.

"I didn't trip after all, Aunt Nell," she said laughingly; "if you only
knew how relieved I was to think that I had made my curtsey and was down
from the platform without mishap!"

Jack and Tom with Sally May and Nancy joined the group and
congratulations were the order of the day. Sally May had a prize for
sketching to exhibit, and Nancy one for fine sewing.

It was a gay, delightful party, and when messengers began to send round
word that actors and committee members must go in for early tea in order
to be ready in good time for the play, Judith could hardly believe that
prize-giving was really over.

Judith and Nancy had still so much to discuss concerning the day's
happenings that they refused to be separated, and Judith, who was to
help change the scenery, established Nancy in a corner beside her so
that she could share in the fun behind the scenes.

Nancy was loud in her praises of the quaintness of the stage-setting,
and Judith, feeling delightfully superior and important, enjoyed herself
enormously showing Nancy how they had contrived this and that to better
the effect.

Peeping around one corner of the curtain they could see the audience
arriving, and behind in the make-up room there was a buzz of voices and
a general feeling of excitement which was quite thrilling.

Presently the hall was full, the orchestra had finished their overture,
and had begun all over again, but the actors did not appear. Something
must have gone wrong.

"Miss Marlowe _will_ be annoyed," whispered Judith to Nancy. "She simply
hates being late." And curiosity tempted her to slip into the
dressing-room to see what was happening.

The room was humming with repressed excitement; last touches of rouge
were being added; Lady Catherine de Burgh was walking solemnly up and
down before a mirror practising the art of making her plumes "nod
majestically," Sally May was saying feverishly over and ov