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.

"So that was what you were up to?" she said. "I knew you had something
on your mind, Judy Kendall, you crafty, clever thing. How perfectly
glorious to think you're really in print!"

Judith pulled out of her embrace.

"Don't make a show of me, Miss Pat," she commanded reproachfully. "It
isn't correct to show that you are so delighted."

She turned to receive the congratulations that crowded on her, and
Patricia, with a gay little ripple of amusement, watched the slender
childish figure straighten to its utmost height and assume an air of
grave affability as Judith responded to her ovation.

"That kid is a born actress," said David in her ear. "Look at her,
Miss Pat. Isn't she the picture of an eminent authoress at a club
reception?"

Patricia smiled and opened her lips, but the words died away, as Bruce,
now with a gayety that bespoke a different sort of announcement,
mounted the model