were pushed to the front, within ten feet of the rostrum, and I was wedged in with Bell on one side of me, afraid I’d jam her sleeves, and on the other side was a woman, who weighed at least two hundred, and was equally afraid of her sleeves.  In front of me was a hat so big that I couldn’t begin to see all the stage, and but for Eloise I’d have got out some way, I was so uncomfortable with Bell fanning on one side till that rheumatic spot on my shoulder, which troubled me some at Harvard, began to ache, and the fat woman the other side mopping her face with a handkerchief saturated with cheap perfumery, and the big hat in front flopping and nodding this way and that, and no place to stretch my long legs.

“There was a prayer, a song circle, and et ceteras, and a great flutter in a row of white dresses, and many colored ribbons to my left.  ‘The Graduates,’ Bell whispered, and the business of the day began.  There were eight in all to read essays—­nice looking girls, and much like the Lasells and Wellesleys we used to know.  As for the essays—­well, there was either a good deal of bosh in them, or a profundity of learning and thought to which Jack Harcourt never attained.  But the people cheered like mad whenever one was ended, and sent up flowers, while I grew hotter and hotter, and when the seventh went up, and unfolded the ‘Age of Progress and Reason,’ which looked as if it might last an age, I made up my mind to bolt, and said so to Bell.

“’Keep still; there’s only one more after this one, and that is Eloise Smith,’ she said.

“I thought of you, and settled myself for another fifteen minutes, while a red-haired girl in glasses went through the ’Age of Progress and Reason’ with great applause, and a basket of flowers, and bowed herself off the stage.  There was a little delay.  Somebody had fainted.  I wonder they didn’t all faint, the air was so hot and thick; and to crown all, the window near us had to be shut, because that fat woman didn’t want a draught on her back!  When they got the fainting person out, and the window shut, I saw the flutter of a white dress, and knew the eighth and last essay was coming.

“‘That’s Eloise,’ Bell said, as a slender little girl walked on to the rostrum, looking as fresh, and cool, and sweet as a—­well, as the white lilies of which I am so fond.

“‘By George!’ I said, so loud that those nearest me must have heard me, and wondered what ailed me.

“Perhaps she heard me, for she looked at me with her beautiful eyes, which steadied me, and kept me quiet all through her essay.  Don’t ask me what it was about.  I don’t know.  I was so absorbed in the girl herself, she was so graceful, and pretty, and self-possessed, and her voice was so musical that I could think of nothing but her; and when she finished I cheered louder than anybody else, and kept on cheering as they do in plays when they want them to come back, till Bell nudged my side, and whispered, ‘Are you crazy?  Everybody is looking at you.’