At seven o’clock that evening Apple-Blossom Alley was the scene of much merriment, for the dwellers therein, dressed in their prettiest with flushed cheeks and eyes glowing like stars, darted from one room to another.

“Oh, Rosie, come here a moment!” Adele called when that maiden appeared in the open door to announce that she was dressed and ready.

Rosamond accepted the invitation and Adele looked her over with a critical though admiring expression. “There is just one more touch needed; this lovely pink rose ought to be caught among your locks. Look, girls!” she added, turning to the others as she held a perfect flower among the short golden curls. “Isn’t it just adorable there?”

“It is indeed!” came a merry and appreciative chorus. Rose was the most beautiful of the girls, but there was not a jealous heart among them.

“I’m sorry for Bobby-boy!” Peggy Pierce teased as she spread her pretty ruffled blue skirt, and perched on the arm of Carol’s chair. “If he isn’t in love now, he will be before midnight.”

But Rose refused to be teased, and then there was a commotion out in the corridor.

“Oh, isn’t she dazzling?” Betty Burd cried.

“Who, Who?” the others called gaily, and Starr was laughingly led into their midst. She had on a dress of soft creamy material through which ran a silvery thread and under the lights it glittered prettily, but it was the circlet about her dark hair that had attracted the girls, for poised in front was a silver star. It was Geraldine’s present to her new cousin.

“Oh!” Adele exclaimed admiringly as she stood off and gazed at this girl whom she had come to love so dearly. “You fairly scintillate! I wish your prairie brothers might see you now.”

Starr laughed. “My doggie would never know me, I am sure of that!” she replied. “Just think, this is the very first party that I have ever attended.”

Madge Petersen, sitting quietly on the window-seat, looked at one and another of the flushed faces as she thought that never before had she seen so many lovely and lovable girls.

Just then Marie, the maid, appeared in the doorway and announced, “The young gentlemen have arrived and are waiting in the library.”

An hour later the long recreation hall in Linden Seminary was the scene of a most festive occasion. All that morning the girls had been in the meadows and little wood gathering daisies, buttercups and ferns, and these seemed to be blossoming everywhere. In a palm-sheltered nook at one end of the hall, a group of Hawaiian musicians played waltzes and one-steps that were sometimes dreamy and sometimes merry, for these dances were all that were permitted, and the happy lads and lassies glided about, smiling brightly when they passed the end of the hall farthest from the musicians, for there sat Madame Deriby looking wonderfully lovely in a silvery gray silk. At her side was Madge Petersen.

“These are all charming girls, Madame Deriby,” Madge said. “I have been watching them for some time and not one have I seen whose manner toward her partner is other than frank friendliness.”

“I am glad!” the pleased matron replied. “I have always tried to teach these dear pupils of mine that lads never really admire a girl who is simpering and sentimental. At first I feared that Gladys Merle Jones might be that type, but Adele Doring and her friends have done much to make Gladys like themselves.”

At nine o’clock Adele, who was at that time dancing with her brother Jack, paused and said softly, “Madame Deriby, is it time for the surprise?”

“Yes, dear,” the matron replied. “Suppose you tell Arthur Ellsworth the part that he is to take, and bid the musicians play very softly.”

When the first strains of the next dance were heard, Arthur went at once and bowed before Gertrude and together they sauntered out on the floor.

Trudie wondered why they seemed to be the only couple dancing, and she was still more puzzled when Arthur waltzed to the middle of the room and then paused. Before she had time to question this strange procedure, from every part of the room came laughing girls. Running toward her and catching hold of hands, they formed a circle about her as gaily they sang:

“Happy birthday to our Gertrude;
May many others dawn as bright,
And may you ever be as joyous,
Dear friend, as you are to-night.”

Then little Betty stepped forward holding a long velvet box and curtsying to the surprised maiden she recited:

“We all of us love you, Gertrude,
Sweetest and dearest of girls,
And, that you may never forget us,
Accept this string of friendship pearls.”

Sudden tears rushed to the eyes of the beautiful lassie, who was indeed dearly loved, but they were tears of gratitude and joy.

“But—I thought no one knew it was my birthday,” Trudie said when the pearls had been clasped about her neck, then she added happily, “I love you all, too, and I thank you!”

Gertrude thought her cup of happiness was brimming full, but another sweet joy was coming to her that night.