The months of March and April had come and gone. The days had passed in unvarying monotony for the most part.

Now and again, however, some little incident found its place and added the necessary interest to the school life. The long term after Christmas is always tiring, and Easter vacation had come as a relief. By the time this chapter opens the grounds of Seddon Hall gave proof of spring warm days and sunshine beckoned the girls out of doors, and early flowers rewarded their frequent rambles in the woods. In less than three weeks school would close, and another Senior class would graduate. Polly and Lois had seen the same thing happen year after year, but now that the time was approaching for them to go, they experienced the same feeling of regret and wonder that every girl knows who has ever finished and received a diploma.

Fortunately they did not have much time to wonder at the coming change in their lives, for there are many events that crowd themselves into the last few weeks of a Senior’s school life, occupying most of her time.

To-day was a particularly busy one. There was a Senior class meeting to decide on the Senior play. The photographer was coming to take the class picture. There was a basket ball practice, for Field Day was not far off, and an art exhibition in the evening. The latter was an entirely new idea instigated by Miss Crosby. Every girl who could draw or paint had offered the best her portfolio could yield, and these had been framed and hung on the walls of the Assembly Hall.

A committee of judges composed of the faculty and two important friends of Miss Crosby, who had promised to come up especially, were to award a medal for the best painting and for the best sketch. Add to all of this, the fact that Louise Preston and Florence Guile two of the old girls were expected on a visit, and you have an idea of the events to which the Seniors looked forward, as they jumped out of bed at the first sound of the rising bell.

And Polly and Lois had another cause for excitement. To-day was the day of the inter-collegiate track meet, and Bob was running in one of the relay races. So many school duties had made it impossible for them to go, but Jim had promised to wire them the results.

Betty met Polly and Lois, as usual, in Roman Alley, and they discussed the plans for the day, as the water ran in their tubs.

“Do you think the Dorothys are going to vote against ’The Merchant of Venice’?” Betty asked, dropping down on the lower step of the stairs. “I’ll simply refuse to act, if we have to have Tennyson’s ‘Princess.’ I think it’s a silly thing.”

“Oh, Bet!” Lois protested.

“Well, I do, and we’d never learn all those yards of verse by Commencement.”

“I think we can make the Dorothys agree,” Polly said, confidently. “Mrs. Baird is coming to the meeting, and I know she’d rather we gave the ‘Merchant of Venice.’”

“What about the class picture?” Lois asked. “How are we going to have it taken all standing in a stiff group, as usual?”

“Jemima, no!” Betty exclaimed. “The officers all sit, I insist; else what proof have we of our importance?”

“Bet, do be sensible,” Polly pleaded. “This is really important. Oh, here comes Ange,” she said as a kimono came in sight around the bend in the stairs.

“Come on, lazy one; we’re having a meeting,” Betty called. “Subject under discussion, the Senior class picture. Have you any valuable suggestions to offer!”

“Yes, I have,” Angela replied, unexpectedly, “and it’s a very clever one, if I do say it myself,” she drawled. “I may as well warn you that if you don’t agree with me, I’ll be awfully offended.”

“Then maybe you’d better not tell us,” teased Lois.

“Oh, but I will. Now listen to me.” Angela sat down beside Polly. “It’s about the picture. Of course you all want something different, don’t you? You know our class has always been noted

“For its originality,” Betty finished for her.

“Yes, we know, go on,” encouraged Polly.

“Well, I thought that instead of an everyday white dress and diploma kind of a pose, we’d have a very informal, sailor suit, you know, group taken.

“Good idea! It would be much simpler and better taste,” Lois agreed.

“Now wait,” Angela went on. “I haven’t finished. Instead of having it taken indoors, with a plain wall for a background, it would be much nicer to have it taken out of doors, either on the Senior porch or out on one of the rocks, side of the pond.”

“That would be perfect,” Polly exclaimed, enthusiastically.

“No class has ever done it before, and I know Mrs. Baird will be overjoyed at the idea of having something a little different from those awful set pictures her office is lined with.”

“It is a good scheme,” Betty said slowly. “But oh, my children! Do you think for one moment that the Dorothys will ever agree?”

“You leave the Dorothys to me,” Polly said. “I’ll see that they agree to everything.”

The meeting was held immediately after school in one of the classrooms. Mrs. Baird was there, and sat beside Lois. Everything was very formal and quite according to Parliamentary rules.

Lois mentioned the subjects that were to be discussed, and before any one else had a chance to speak, Polly rose and asked to be permitted to offer a suggestion.

When it had been granted, she laid before them Angela’s idea for the picture. Mrs. Baird was so charmed that she forgot to be formal, in her enthusiastic praise of it.

When that point was settled, Lois mentioned the play.

Betty jumped up at the first words and gave several very good reasons in favor of the “Merchant of Venice.” Evelin and Helen agreed with her and though the two Dorothys voted for “The Princess,” the majority was in Betty’s favor.

It was decided that Mrs. Baird and Miss Porter should cast each girl in her part.

Towards the end of the meeting, there was a knock on the door. Polly opened it. Louise Preston and Florence Guile stood in the hall.

“Don’t let us disturb anything,” Louise said, “but Miss Hale told us Mrs. Baird was here.”

Polly pulled them into the room. “Oh, but I’m glad to see you,” she cried. “We thought you’d never get here.”

The meeting broke up at once, for the girls crowded round to welcome them. They had both been Seniors when the present class were Freshmen. Now they were Juniors at College, but like most of the Seddon Hall graduates, they always came back, at least once a year. The girls were all delighted to see them for they had been two of the most popular girls who had ever been in the school.

When the greetings were over, Polly and Lois claimed them, and carried them off to the gym. Louise had been Captain in her Senior year and was now on her college team, and Polly wanted her advice.

“Now, Lou, tell me just exactly what you think,” she said after the game was over, and they were all four in her room.

“I think your team is fine, Polly, really,” Louise said, sincerely, “but

“Yes, it’s that but, I want to hear about,” Polly prompted.

“The guards are your weak point. That one girl made four fouls. Miss Stewart didn’t see them all, but I did,” Louise said.

“That’s Eleanor Trent, she’s used to boys’ rules,” Lois explained.

“Then she’s hopeless,” Florence said with finality, “and she’ll never get over it.”

“Who’s the girl that was guarding you?” Louise asked.

“That’s Maud Banks; she’s been a sub for only a little while,” Polly said. “I put her on to take the place of a girl who didn’t come back after Easter. Why?”

“I think she ought to be on the big team,” Louise declared. “She’s a splendid player.”

Polly considered. “I guess you’re right,” she said.

“You and Lo and Bet pass as well as ever,” Florence said. “Lois, where did you get that Princeton banner?” she asked, changing the subject abruptly.

“Frank gave it to me.”

“It’s coming down to-night and my banner takes its place,” Polly said; “that is, if something happens.”

“What?” Louise demanded.

But Polly’s explanation was cut short by a timid tap at the door.

“Come in,” called Lois. It was Phylis and Janet.

“We’ve come to take you out for a walk, sister,” Phylis said to Florence. “You promised you’d come back right after practice and you didn’t.”

Florence laughed. “Mercy, what a rude awakening. Here I’ve been feeling just as if I were back again and then my small sister knocks at the door and reminds me I’m only a visitor!”

“Their coming makes me think of the way you two used to knock at our door,” Louise said. “Remember?”

“Only Lo and Poll were never as respectful as Jane and Phylis,” Florence teased, putting her arm around her sister. “They used to bounce in unannounced and eat up all our peanut butter.”

“Florence, you shouldn’t talk like that,” her sister admonished her. “You forget Polly and Lois are Seniors,” she said with dignity.

“A thousand pardons!” Florence laughed. “So they are.”

“I see you have your defenders just as we had,” Louise remarked.

“I think it’s time to go,” Janet announced, and she didn’t understand why everybody laughed.

“Tell us about the exhibition to-night,” Louise said, as they started for their walk, and Janet explained:

“All the girls who are at all good, put things in,” she concluded. “These two friends of Miss Crosby are both artists and they’re very important. I hope Lois gets the prize.”

“Do you think she will?” Florence asked.

“I don’t know, but Maud Banks says she’s sure to,” Janet replied.

Polly and Lois, after their visitors had left, hurried back into their sailor suits and joined the rest of the Seniors in the reception room, where the photographer was waiting.

Lois explained about the picture and led the way to the pond. He selected a rock and grouped the girls around it. This took so much time, that Lois hurried to the studio to find it was too late to make the one or two alterations on her canvas that she had wanted to.

“Oh, dear,” she said to Miss Crosby; “I never realized how late it was getting. What will I do?”

“You’ll leave your canvas just as it is,” Miss Crosby answered. “I’m glad the light is poor. I didn’t want you to make any changes. Come down to Assembly Hall and help me to hang up the rest of the sketches, will you?” she asked.

The two artists who were to act as judges came in time for dinner. The girls had a glimpse of them as they passed the guests’ dining-room.

“Why, they’re men,” Betty exclaimed. “One’s fat, old and bald, and the other one’s young. I thought they were going to be women.”

“No, of course not.” Lois laughed. “Miss Crosby told me all about them, they’re quite famous. Do you know I’m scared to death,” she admitted.

There was no set time for the exhibition that night. The Assembly Hall was open at seven-thirty, and the girls came in and looked at the pictures when they wanted to.

The two imposing visitors, who both wore tortoise shell rimmed glasses on broad black ribbons, walked about glancing at a picture now and then, and talking to the faculty.

“They make me awfully nervous; let’s get out. I think some of the girls are dancing in English Room,” Lois said. She was with Polly and Louise and Florence.

“Then how will we know who gets the medal?” Louise inquired.

“The bell’s going to ring at nine o’clock,” Polly explained. “Then everybody will come back, and the winner’s names will be announced from the platform.

“Well, let’s look once more at Lois’ canvas,” Florence said. “I’m crazy about it.”

They crossed the room and stopped before a picture of an apple orchard in Springtime. Lois had chosen to paint it, because it was her favorite spot in the grounds, and she had put into it all the joy and sunshine of a May-day.

“Lo, it’s good,” Polly whispered earnestly. “It makes me want to dance.”

“Have you seen Maud’s sketches, they’re great,” Lois said. The critics were standing near and she felt suddenly self-conscious.

“I think the one of the chicken yard is awfully clever, but, of course I love the yellow dog best of all.”

Maud, when she had heard of the exhibit, had chosen her puppy friend for one of her models. The girls admired the clever result, and then left the room.

At nine o’clock the bell rang. It was five minutes before all the girls were back in the room, and Lois was among the last. She was almost afraid to listen for the names. When everything was quiet, the older of the two men came to the edge of the platform the medals in his hand.

“This unexpected, but none the less, charming evening,” he began; “has caused me a great deal of pleasure. It is a privilege to be among you.”

“Oh, do hurry,” groaned Polly.

“And I am indebted to our friend Miss Crosby, for the honor. With the assistance of your faculty whose judgment I am sure you respect most heartily,” he added, with a quiet smile; “I have chosen that very delightful painting of the apple orchard without hesitation as the most noteworthy and promising canvas in the room. It is with the greatest pleasure that I present Miss Lois Farwell with the medal.”

Lois walked up to the platform. Her head was swimming and all the color had left her cheeks.

“Thank you,” she said, as the medal on its purple ribbon slipped into her hand. She seemed to be treading on air as she walked back to Polly.

Maud received the other medal for her clever and original treatment of the yellow dog; her comment was typical.

“Oh, I say, thanks a lot!” she said, as she accepted it.

Miss Crosby detained Lois after the girls had all gone and introduced her to the two men. She heard their praise and criticism of her work with a beating heart. She was tempted to think it was all a dream, when she was back in her room, but the card she held in her hand, that the artist had given her, was proof of reality.

“Polly,” she said, excitedly, “you should have heard the nice things he said to me, and he told me that if I wanted advice, to come to him. Imagine! I’m much too thrilled to go tamely to bed.”

“I know,” Polly agreed; “my heart was in my throat when he was talking. I thought he’d never stop. To-morrow I’m going to write Aunt Kate all about it. Think how delighted she’ll be.”

Lois smiled happily. “I know she will. She’s always been so adorably interested in everything. I wish I had something to eat,” she finished prosaically.

“I’ll go see if Bet and Ange have anything,” Polly offered.

She tip-toed out of the door for the good night bell had rung and started toward Betty’s room. One of the housemaids was just coming down the corridor.

“Here’s a telegram for you, Miss Polly,” she said. “Mrs. Baird told me to bring it up; it’s just come.”

Polly took the yellow envelope and tore it open. “Lois,” she cried, joyfully, rushing back to their room. “Look! a wire.”

“Bob a hero he’s won his letter.”

(Signed) “Jim.”

“Isn’t that wonderful?” Polly demanded. “Now we’ll never get to sleep,” she added, laughing.