drawal from Mrs. Bennet's clutches?
Contrary to Judith's fears, Mr. Collins's coat withstood the pressure
of his windy eloquence and all the seams held fast.

Scene followed scene. Jane's love-story and Lydia's and Elizabeth's
until the tangles, always tied in true lovers' garlands, were
disentangled one by one and Mrs. Bennet was able to sing her hymn of
joy. "Three daughters married! Ten thousand a year! What will become of
me? I shall go distracted."

It was a great success, of course, the Reunion Play always was, and each
one better than the last as every one said, but Judith and Nancy
privately decided that nothing could ever be better--it was perfect.

The play over, benches and chairs were piled up at the sides, the
orchestra played an entrancing tune, and every one danced; Mr. Collins
with Lady Catherine de Burgh, and Elizabeth with Judith, Mrs. Bennet
with Nancy, and Jane with Bingley.

Then by and by Miss Meredith gave a signal to the orchestra, and big
girls and little, Old and New, formed a great triple hand-clasped circle
and sang together as was the custom, "Should Auld Acquaintance be
Forgot?" And if some of the Old Girls found they couldn't sing at all
because their voices grew hoarse and husky, as they thought of what old
acquaintance in York Hill had meant to them and was going to mean to
their young sisters and daughters, what wonder!

It was over. The guests were moving slowly down to the drawing-rooms for
refreshments, and the School and the Old Girls crossed the quadrangle
and had their lemonade and cake in Big Hall. In twos and threes the
girls stood making plans for next year, or talking over the events of
the day.

Some one at the piano began to play "Forty Years On," the last song
always at York Hill on Prize Day.

Judith didn't want to sing--she slipped out through the open door. It
was a glorious sight, the moon was nearly full, and the quadrangle was
flooded with silvery light.

In front of her was the great main School building, its windows blazing
with light, the silhouette of the bell-tower etched against the sky. She
could hear the Old Girls behind her singing in the Gymnasium--

"Forty years on, when afar and asunder
Parted are those who are singing to-day,
When you look back and forgetfully wonder
What you were like in your work and your play."

Memories of the past year crowded into Judith's mind. The first days,
and this splendid la