Nan was a born nurse, and, moreover, she had sufficient common sense and tact to know how to deal with nervous exhaustion. Instead of discussing the situation she said, cheerily, “Now everything will be all right. Hilda will look after the stars and wands, and you can have quite a little time to rest before you go back to the schoolroom. Don’t try to go up to your room now, just stay right where you are, and I’ll bring you a cup of hot milk, which is just what you need.”

Patty nestled among the cushions which Nan patted and tucked around her, and after taking the hot milk felt much better.

“I must get up now, Nan,” she pleaded, from the couch where she lay, “I have so many things to attend to.”

“Patty,” said Nan, looking at her steadily, “do you want to go through with the commencement exercises this afternoon and the play to-night successfully, or do you want to collapse on the stage and faint right before all the audience?”

“I won’t do any such foolish thing,” said Patty, indignantly.

“You will,” said Nan, “unless you obey me implicitly, and do exactly as I tell you.”

Nan’s manner more than her words compelled Patty’s obedience, and with a sigh, the tired girl closed her eyes, saying, “All right, Nan, have your own way, I’ll be good.”

“That’s a good child,” said Nan, soothingly, “and now first we’ll go right up to your own room.”

Then Nan helped Patty into a soft dressing gown, made her lie down upon her bed, and threw a light afghan over her.

Then sitting beside her, Nan talked a little on unimportant matters and then began to sing softly. In less than half an hour Patty was sound asleep, and Nan breathed a sigh of relief at finding her efforts had been successful.

But there was not much time to spare, for the commencement exercises began at three o’clock.

So at two o’clock Patty found herself gently awakened, to see Nan at her bedside, arranging a dainty tray of luncheon which a maid had brought in.

“Here you are, girlie,” said the cheery voice, “sit up now, and see what we have for you here.”

Patty awoke a little bewildered, but soon gathered her scattered senses, and viewed with pleasure the broiled chicken and crisp salad before her.

Exhaustion had made her hungry, and while she ate, Nan busied herself in getting out the pretty costume that Patty was to wear at commencement.

But the sight of the white organdie frock with its fluffy ruffles and soft laces brought back Patty’s apprehensions.

“Oh, Nan,” she cried in dismay, “I’m not nearly ready for commencement! I haven’t copied my poem yet, and I haven’t had a minute to practice reading it for the last two weeks. What shall I do?”

“That’s all attended to,” said Nan,—“the copying, I mean. You’ve been so busy doing other people’s work, that of course you haven’t had time to attend to your own, so I gave your poem to your father, and he had it typewritten for you, and here it is all ready. Now, while you dress, I’ll read it to you, and that will bring it back to your memory.”

“Nan, you are a dear,” cried Patty, jumping up and flying across the room to give her stepmother a hearty caress. “Whatever would I do without you? I’m all right now, and if you’ll just elocute that thing, while I array myself in purple and fine linen, I’m sure it will all come back to me.”

So Nan read Patty’s jolly little class poem line by line, and Patty repeated it after her as she proceeded with her toilette.

She was ready before the appointed time, and the carriage was at the door, but Nan would not let her go.

“No, my lady,” she said, “you don’t stir out of this house until the very last minute. If you get over there ahead of time, you’ll begin to make somebody a new costume, or build a throne for the fairy queen, or some foolish trick like that. Now you sit right straight down in that chair and read your poem over slowly, while I whip into my own clothes, and then we’ll go along together. Fred can’t come until a little later anyway. Sit still now, and don’t wriggle around and spoil that pretty frock.”

Patty obeyed like a docile child, and Nan flew away to don her own pretty gown for the occasion.

When she returned in a soft grey crÊpe de chine, with a big grey hat and feathers, she was such a pretty picture that Patty involuntarily exclaimed in admiration.

“I’m glad you like it,” said Nan, “I want to look my best so as to do you credit, and in return I want you to do your best so as to do me credit.”

“I will,” said Patty, earnestly, “I truly will. You’ve been awfully good to me, Nan, and but for you I don’t know what I should have done.”

Away they went, and when they reached the schoolroom, and Patty went to join her classmates, while Nan took her place in the audience, she said as a parting injunction, “Now mind, Patty, this afternoon you’re to attend strictly to your own part in the programme. Don’t go around helping other people with their parts, because this isn’t the time for that. You’ll have all you can do to manage Patty Fairfield.”

Patty laughed and promised, and ran away to the schoolroom.

The moment she entered, half a dozen girls ran to her with questions about various details, and Nan’s warning was entirely forgotten. Indeed had it not been for Hilda’s intervention, Patty would have gone to work at a piece of unfinished scenery.

“Drop that hammer!” cried Hilda, as Patty was about to nail some branches of paper roses on to a wobbly green arbour. “Patty Fairfield, are you crazy? The idea of attempting carpenter work with that delicate frock on! Do for pity’s sake keep yourself decent until after you’ve read your poem at least!”

Patty looked at Hilda with that same peculiar vacantness in her glance which she had shown in the morning, and though Hilda said nothing, she was exceedingly anxious and kept a sharp watch on Patty’s movements.

But it was then time for the girls to march onto the platform, and as Patty seemed almost like herself, though unusually quiet, Hilda hoped it was all right.

The exercises were such as are found on most commencement programmes, and included class history, class prophecy, class song and all of the usual contributions to a commencement programme.

Patty’s class poem was near the end of the list, and Nan was glad, for she felt it would give the girl more time to regain her poise. Mr. Fairfield had arrived, and both he and Nan waited anxiously for Patty’s turn to come.

When it did come, Patty proved herself quite equal to the occasion.

Her poem was merry and clever, and she read it with an entire absence of self-consciousness, and an apparent enjoyment of its fun. She looked very sweet and pretty in her dainty white dress, and she stood so gracefully and seemed so calm and composed, that only those who knew her best noticed the feverish brightness of her eyes and a certain tenseness of the muscles of her hands.

But this was not unobserved by one in the audience. Mr. Hepworth, though seated far back, noted every symptom of Patty’s nervousness, however little it might be apparent to others.

Although she went through her ordeal successfully, he knew how much greater would be the excitement and responsibility of the evening’s performance and he wished he could help her in some way.

But there seemed to be nothing he could do, and though he had sent her a beautiful basket of roses, it was but one floral gift among so many that he doubted whether Patty even knew that he sent it; and he also doubted if she would have cared especially if she had known it.

Like most of the graduates, Patty received quantities of floral tributes. As the ushers came again and again with clusters or baskets of flowers, the audience heartily applauded, and Patty, though embarrassed a little, preserved a pretty dignity, and showed a happy enjoyment of it all.

As soon as the diplomas were awarded, and Patty had her cherished roll tied with its blue ribbon, Nan told Mr. Fairfield that it was imperative that Patty should be made to go straight home.

“If she stays there,” said Nan, “she’ll get excited and exhausted, and be good for nothing to-night. I gave her some stimulants this noon, although she didn’t know it, but the effects are wearing off and a reaction will soon set in. She must come home with us at once.”

“You are right, Mrs. Fairfield,” said Mr. Hepworth, who had crossed the room and joined them just in time to hear Nan’s last words. “Patty is holding herself together by sheer nervous force, and she needs care if she is to keep up through the evening.”

“That is certainly true,” said Nan. “Kenneth,” she added, turning to young Harper, who stood near by, “you have a good deal of influence with Patty. Go and get her, won’t you? Make her come at once.”

“All right,” said Kenneth, and he was off in a moment, while Mr. Hepworth looked after him, secretly wishing that the errand might have been entrusted to him.

But Kenneth found his task no easy one. Although Patty willingly consented to his request, and even started toward the dressing-room to get her wraps, she paused so many times to speak to different ones, or her progress was stopped by anxious-looking girls who wanted her help or advice, that Kenneth almost despaired of getting her away.

“Can’t you make her come, Hilda?” he said.

“I’ll try,” said Hilda, but when she tried, Patty only said, “Yes, Hilda, in just a minute. I want to coach Mary a little in her part, and I want to show Hester where to stand in the third act.”

“Never mind,” said Hilda, impatiently. “Let her stand on the roof, if she wants to, but for goodness’ sake go on home. Your people are waiting for you.”

Again Patty looked at her with that queer vacant gaze, and then Lorraine Hart stepped forward and took matters in her own hands.

“March!” she said, as she grasped Patty’s arm, and steered her toward the dressing-room. “Halt!” she said after they reached it, and then while Patty stood still, seemingly dazed, Lorraine put her cloak about her, threw her scarf over her head, wheeled her about, and marched her back to where Kenneth stood waiting.

“Take her quick,” she said. “Take her right to the carriage; don’t let her stop to speak to anybody.”

So Kenneth grasped Patty’s arm firmly and led her through the crowd of girls, out of the door, and down the walk to the carriage. Ordinarily, Patty would have resented this summary treatment, but still in a half-dazed way she meekly went where she was led.

Once in the carriage, Nan sat beside her and Mr. Fairfield opposite, and they started for home. No reference was made to Patty herself, but the others talked lightly and pleasantly of the afternoon performance.

On reaching home, Nan put Patty to bed at once, and telephoned for the Doctor.

But when Dr. Martin came, Nan met him downstairs, and told him all about the case. They then decided that the Doctor should not see Patty, as to realise the fact that she was in need of medical attendance might prove a serious shock.

“And really, Doctor,” said Nan, “if the girl shouldn’t be allowed at least to try to go through with the play this evening, I wouldn’t like to answer for the consequences.”

“I understand,” said Dr. Martin, “and though I think that with the aid of certain prescriptions I shall give you, she can probably get through the evening, it would be far better if she did not attempt it.”

“I know it Doctor,” said Nan, “and with some girls it might be possible to persuade them to give it up, but I can’t help feeling that if we even advised Patty not to go to-night, she would fly into violent hysterics.”

“Very likely,” said Dr. Martin, “and I think, Mrs. Fairfield, you are right in your diagnosis. If you will give her these drops exactly as I have directed, I think she will brace up sufficiently to go through her part all right.”

Nan thanked the Doctor, and hurried back to Patty’s room to look after her charge. She found Patty lying quietly, but in a state of mental excitement. When Nan came in, she began to talk rapidly.

“It’s all right, Nan, dear,” she said. “I’m not ill a bit. Please let me get up now, and dress so I can go around to the schoolroom a little bit early. There are two or three things I must look after, and then the play will go off all right.”

“Very well,” said Nan, humouring her, “if you will just take this medicine it will brace you up for the evening, and you can go through with the play as successfully as you did your part this afternoon.”

Patty agreed, and took the drops the Doctor had left, without a murmur.

Soon their soothing effect became apparent, and Patty’s nervous enthusiasm quieted down to such an extent that she seemed in no haste to go.

She ate her dinner slowly, and dawdled over her dressing, until Nan again became alarmed lest the medicine had been too powerful.

Poor Nan really had a hard time of it. Patty was not a tractable patient, and Nan was frequently at her wits’ end to know just how to manage her.

But at last she was ready, and they all started for the school again. Although Patty’s own people, and a few of her intimate girl friends knew of her overwrought state, most of the class and even the teachers had no idea how near to a nervous breakdown she was. For her demeanour was much as usual, and though she would have moments of dazed bewilderment, much of the time she was unusually alert and she flew about attending to certain last details in an efficient and clear-headed manner.