“A pretty sight,” said Juliet, as she looked out of a Lakeview Suite window at the front campus, all aglow with lights that cast yellow beams across the well-trimmed grass. A certain portion had been wired for electric lights, which would be left until after Commencement; elsewhere, Japanese lanterns were hung around. The fountain sparkled, and near by, the brilliantly lighted candy booth was an attractive place. Freshman academy girls were not permitted to have engagements with the military youths, but served refreshments, sold candy, and had great fun on the side. Many of the younger boys, who came in groups, not having invited any particular girl, hung around the booths, offering, their services to carry ice cream, buying as much candy as they could carry, or took ice cream and cake several times in order to converse with the fair waitresses.

At Juliet’s remark, Lilian and Eloise started to hum, “Can I Forget That Night in June,” sung by their mothers, grandmothers and perhaps their great-grandmothers in bygone days! After helping in various ways about the decorations and the candy, the girls had dressed early and were visiting before it should be time to go downstairs.

“There come the first lot of them,” said Hilary, who was sitting in the window seat with Juliet. One of the Greycliff Village motor buses was dashing in at the entrance of the drive and the much admired uniforms could be seen inside.

“How do we do this time?” asked Cathalina.

“We go down to the parlor and wait for the card of the cadet,” said Juliet. “It is taken to Miss Randolph first to be O. K.’d.”

“Doesn’t that sound funny?” remarked Lilian. “Does she write ‘O. K.’ on it, Juliet?”

“Scarcely,” replied Juliet.

“Come on, let’s all go down and sit in the parlors. There comes the village band. I wish the boys had theirs tonight.”

“But the boys wouldn’t have any fun if they had to play,” said Betty.

“They could do as they did the last time, play at the beginning and at the end.”

“By the way, Lilian,” said Pauline, “I’ve been wanting to ask you for the longest time—and would forget it—how you could play so well at the recital if this is your first year in violin.”

“Well, Pauline, I did not intend to make you think that I had never had any lessons before, but I certainly considered myself a beginner this year. I have had teachers at home, chiefly in the summer, you know, but they weren’t very good, and I didn’t know how to use the bow correctly, nor get the fingering right, and I made everything so dreadfully different from what the teacher here wanted that I was discouraged enough sometimes to give it all up.”

“I see, Lilian, but I guess you knew more than you thought you did.”

“O, yes, girls,” said Eloise, “did you know that Patricia West has been a councillor in a girls’ camp in Maine and is going again next summer? Wouldn’t it be great if some of us girls could go?”

“O, wouldn’t it!” exclaimed Isabel. “I believe I could get my father to let me go, I’m going to write to him about it!”

“Just think,” said Pauline, “Commencement is only a week off!”

“I can’t believe it,” said Cathalina, “all the hard work nearly over and I’m going to be graduated with the rest of you at the academy exercises! I wish my family could come, but they can’t. However, I’m hoping for Aunt Katherine. She is the one who thought first about my coming here, bless her heart! Have you finished your class prophecy, Hilary?”

“Not yet,—but come, it is time we were downstairs. Perhaps some of those ‘youths of culture and valor’ are our callers.”

With much fluttering and floating of light dresses of various hues, the girls, like so many bright butterflies, descended the stairs and went to the parlor designated for them.

Acquaintances prospered at the lawn fete, for groups of laughing, chatting young people mingled, sipped their lemonade together and passed around boxes of home-made candy, and as they ate ice cream together, they planned all sorts of happy gatherings for next year, provided the faculty approved.

“Are you returning next year, Miss Van Buskirk?” asked Captain Van Horne.

“O, yes; I expect to finish the two collegiate years here, and then, perhaps, go to some eastern college for two years more. Will you be back next year?”

“It is a little uncertain, but I think so. And if I am, may I engage you ahead for the next lawn fete?”

Cathalina laughed. “That is a long time ahead, but I shall be ‘most happy.’” As the future had it, there would not be any lawn fete next year, but neither of them knew that now.

“What are you going to do this summer?”

“We have just been talking about it a little. Miss West is going to a summer camp in Maine and spoke to Betty and me the other day, saying that she wished she could have some of us with her. Then tonight some of the other girls were talking about it. We have been so rushed with work that we have left all other plans to the last minute as usual.”

“I am sorry that you will not be in New York, for I expect to be there, reading law, of course.”

“But I shall be there for a little while before going, if it is decided that I may go, and in the fall again before school opens.”

“Let me take down your address, then,” and Captain Van Horne took out his note book and pencil.

How quickly those last days of the year vanished into the past. There were the final examinations for which to study, reviewing the different subjects, and preparations for the Commencement program must be made. The climax would be reached in the class day exercises and the Commencement proper, with its diplomas won by much endeavor.

Hilary’s class prophecy, over which she had sighed or laughed, was published in the last number of the Greycliff Star, which appeared on the horizon of Commencement morning. Lilian’s poem and Jane Mills’ short story, which had won Van Buskirk prizes were also published, with the list of the girls who won prizes in any line. They had been announced at the chapel exercises of the day preceding Commencement, and great was Cathalina’s delight when Aunt Katherine Knickerbocker appeared in time to see her receive hers, for excellence in French. Hilary won the first prize of fifty dollars for the highest average in general scholarship, and Betty received honors in drawing and designing. There was not the sadness of parting among the academy girls which often shadows the last days. The older collegiate girls were deploring their separation, so soon to occur, but many of the academy seniors were so in love with Greycliff Girls’ School that they longed to take their first two years of college work under her kindly auspices. For them Greycliff life would go on.

How Cathalina enjoyed taking Aunt Katherine all over the place, introducing the girls to her, and visiting with her and Miss Randolph, who was as delighted as Cathalina, and had many things to say to her old friend, chief of which was of her satisfaction with Cathalina and her work. The girls were much impressed with Aunt Katherine, her dainty apparel, her beautiful speech and her kind friendliness. She had brought to Hilary from New York an especially handsome bracelet, as a Commencement present and in recognition, as she said, of the inspiration that Hilary had been to Cathalina. To the other girls of the suite she gave suitable presents as well, and the room was strewn with the pretty things that arrived from parents and friends. Cathalina and the others took Aunt Katherine to the library to show her the alcove which held the books given to the school by Mr. Van Buskirk, and down to the society hall to see the new piano, from the same generous source.

“We made the money or gave it ourselves, for the furniture, Aunt Katherine,” said Cathalina. “Just think! I had that fifty dollars, that the jeweler paid me, to give.”

Aunt Katherine, who had one arm around her favorite niece and the other around Betty, gave that favorite niece a little squeeze. “Smart child,” she said. “I’ll see if Uncle Morris can’t spare a picture or two from his collection, next year. Do you need anything else?”

“O, yes, to have the walls done over and a piece of statuary or two!”

“You don’t want much, do you? I suppose you need some Grecian marbles in your ‘statuary’ or something by Michelangelo at the least.”

“No, we’ll take what we can get,” replied Cathalina, “and with thanks.”

“We’re giving you a fudge party tonight,” said Hilary, “do you drink cocoa, or would you rather have tea or lemonade?”

“Nothing hot in this weather, please; cold water will be good.”

“We shall have iced tea and lemonade, and you may choose then. This is our final party. O, we do have the best times when we are not studying!”

“Make the most of it,” said Aunt Katherine. “School life has a charm of its own, and you will always remember the happy times. I know, because I had them, too, and I laugh yet recalling some of the fun.”

It was not very hard to imagine Aunt Katherine a girl, though, of course, it must have been ages ago, when they wore such funny clothes!

“Have you seen the ‘Woman in Black’ this year?” asked Aunt Katherine of Isabel.

“You mustn’t laugh at it, Mrs. Knickerbocker,” said Isabel with pretended solemnity. “The Greycliff Ghost is not to be trifled with,—but I haven’t seen her. Some of the girls think that I didn’t see anything last year, but I really did. However, I could not say that it was a ghost. I think it was something or somebody that had no business to be there at all, though. This year we have had somebody inside to go around the halls occasionally during the night.” Isabel spoke as if it were rather a grievance that such a guard should be posted. “But we have several mysteries that may or may not be cleared up. I rather enjoy them myself.”

“What do you think of the camp idea, Aunt Katherine?” asked Cathalina.

“You would have a pleasant time together, and they say that the girls learn many things at these camps, besides having a sensible, outdoor life.”

“I want to go so much, and Betty hopes to go. We can all tell better about it when we get home.”

Commencement day in early June. The suggestion of it brings a picture of bright-faced girls, sheer white frocks, and June roses. Aunt Katherine, sitting with Isabel in the chapel, meditated quietly while waiting for the seniors to enter. Dr. and Mrs. Lancaster sat not far away, having arrived in time for the occasion, with regrets that they had missed class day and the other exercises. Aunt Hilary had had to content herself with sending gifts to her namesake.

And now came the time for the presentation of diplomas. On the platform sat the faculty with the trustees. It was an old story to some of them. Yet never did Miss Randolph fail to rise to the inspiration of the hour. “Beautiful woman,” thought Aunt Katherine, as she looked at the shining eyes and spiritual face of the woman who had so many young souls under her influence every year.

“Isn’t she wonderful?” whispered Cathalina to Hilary, as the girls, impressed with the dignity of the occasion, listened to her address to the class.

But it was when Cathalina’s name was called and she went up to receive her diploma that Aunt Katherine surreptitiously wiped away a tear, and looking over at Mrs. Lancaster, saw her putting away her handkerchief. For what our young people do means much to those who hold them dear.

“O, it’s over!” exclaimed Hilary, as she greeted her father and mother again and started to bring the girls, of whom she had so often spoken at home, to meet them. Cathalina was making a low bow to her aunt and presenting her diploma.

“Have it framed, Auntie! Put it in Uncle Morris’s collection of pictures; it has one of Greycliff on it.”

“You have earned it. I think we shall let you put it away among the Van Buskirk archives,” returned Aunt Katherine.

But there was still packing to be done. After a lunch, rather more elaborate than usual, the girls scattered to their rooms and the exodus began. Another year at Greycliff was completed.