The boys had been duly informed of Anne’s good fortune, and the Saturday of the third week of Anne’s engagement had been the date fixed upon for the theatre party.  Tom Gray would bring Arnold Evans.  Hippy, David and Reddy would join them in New York.  Then the five boys would repair to the hotel where the girls were to stop, accompanied by Mrs. Gibson and James Gardiner, who was again invited to make the number even.

Intense excitement prevailed in school when it was learned that the Phi Sigma Tau were to go to New York to see Anne as “Rosalind,” and the five girls were carried upon the top wave of popularity.

Marian and Eleanor alone remained aloof, evincing no outward interest in the news, although both thought rather enviously of the good time in New York that awaited the girls they had repudiated.

The eventful Saturday came at last, and the five girls, chaperoned by Mrs. Gibson, with James Gardiner for a bodyguard, boarded the same express that had carried Anne off and were whirled away to the metropolis.

As soon as they arrived in New York they were conveyed by taxicabs to their hotel and on entering the reception room were hailed with delight by the boys, who had arrived only half an hour before.  While they were busily engaged in exchanging news, Anne hurried in from a rehearsal, was seized by Grace, then passed from one to the other until, freeing herself, she said, laughing: 

“Do let me stand still for a second.  I haven’t had a really good look at any of you yet.”

“What do you mean by becoming a Shakespearian star without consulting me first!” demanded David, with mock severity, although there was a rather wistful look in his eyes as they looked into Anne’s.  David preferred to keep Anne the little High School girl he had known for the past three years.  Theatrical stars were somewhat out of his firmament.

“Don’t worry,” Anne assured him.  “It’s only for three more weeks.  I’ll be back in Oakdale in plenty of time to finish up my senior year with the girls.”

“Anne, you haven’t any idea of how much we have missed you,” cried Nora.  “We can’t get used to being without you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” responded Anne who stood with Grace’s arm around her, smiling lovingly at her little circle of friends.

“Of course I have had a good many rehearsals—­one every day, and sometimes two—­so the time has fairly raced by; but when the play is over and I am on the way home at night, then I think of all of you, and it seems as though I must take the next train back to Oakdale.”

“Do let me talk,” interposed Hippy, who had hitherto been devoting his attention to Nora.  “No one knows how I long to be back in Oakdale, fair village of my birth, home of the chafing dish and the cheerful chocolate cream.  ’Tis there that the friends of my youth flourish, and the grass green banner of O’Malley waves.  Take me back; oh, take me—­”