"Pretty? Well, they certainly did. I was just going to tell you about that. The Yale girls all wore big bunches of violets--a Yale emblem. The Harvard girls wore dark red chrysanthemums. I had some, and a pennant, which I waved madly. There were more pretty gowns than you ever saw at one time in all your life. Great splashes of color all through the crowd; and the furs--that reminds me: all of a sudden I realized that my fur was gone. The white fox that Uncle Cliff gave me last Christmas. You can imagine the sinking sensation of my heart." "Oh, dear, you lost it?" Sarah murmured. "Yes, but I found it. It had slipped off my back and dropped behind the seat. You can believe I held on to it mighty tight after that." Blue Bonnet sighed deeply as she recalled the averted tragedy. "Did you go home then?" "Go home? Well, I should say not. People never go home until they have to, after a big game like that; they're too excited--they have to work it off gradually. Cousin Tracy and I went to dinner where there were loads of Harvard people dining. After dinner we went to a light opera, and there--" Again Blue Bonnet went off into peals of laughter. "--a man came out and had the audacity to sing: "'I am so fond of violets.' "Imagine! Why, the Harvard men didn't let him finish the first line before they had him off the stage--" "Mobbed him?" Sarah gasped. "Call it what you like. I don't think they injured him, for he came back and sang Harvard songs--nothing else; sang like an angel, too." "Oh, but you were in luck, Blue Bonnet," Kitty sighed. "I could die happy if I'd had your chance." "It does make you feel that way, Kitty. I can see myself telling my grandchildren about that game. It's almost like an inheritance, something you can pass along. I've cut out all the notices from the papers and kept the literature they passed around. Now, I think I've told you every blessed thing. Would you all like to come up-stairs and see my new clothes?" There was an immediate rush for Blue Bonnet's room. Miss Clyde wondered an hour later, when she rapped at the door and glanced in, if the place would ever again take on its natural shape and order. Bureau drawers yawned; furniture was pulled about; the window-seat held a mass of underwear, shoes and dresses; but the faces of the We Are Sevens reflected pride and approval. "Aunt Lucinda," Blue Bonnet called, "Sarah says she will come over Saturday and help sew the markers on my clothes. Isn't that lovely?" "It is very kind of Sarah, I am sure." "And, Aunt Lucinda, don't you think it would be nice to have a little tea, or luncheon or something, and let all the girls help?" "It would be nice to have the girls, Blue Bonnet, but--" Miss Clyde hesitated. She had seen samples of the We Are Sevens' sewing, and visions of Blue Bonnet's underwear after it had braved the first wash, rose before her eyes. "But what?" "Marking clothes is rather a particular piece of work, you know."