Mrs. Coyle nodded. “And fraish air kin pass through ter let out all the odours,” her mind evidently intent on the airy location of the room. Then she glanced at the white tucked dress lying on the lower berth of the double-decker. Her daughter followed the gaze. “Look at Gincy’s; hers has more tucks.” Talitha slipped the princess gown over her head, all the while smiling delightedly at the amazement in the faces of her guests. They plied her with questions. How did she get in all those little pleats? Who helped her cut and fit it? Couldn’t they visit the sewing-room? To which Talitha responded as eagerly. “There, I’m almost ready; we’ll go on the first stroke of the last bell. After the exercises we’ll have dinner, and then I’m bound to show you everything on the grounds.” “Look out of this window,” said Gincy, pointing to a stretch of trailing plants on the south side of the house. “Strawberries! Aren’t they splendid? Father’s got to have some just like them.” “Abner and Martin have learned a lot about horticulture; they’ll tend to things,” said Talitha, noticing the look on her mother’s face which seemed to say as plainly as words: “Your father wouldn’t find time for anything of the kind.” At the first stroke of the last bell, the four descended the stairs and followed the crowd going in the direction of the Tabernacle. The college band in bright, new uniforms, was playing a lively air near the chapel door. From every direction the people streamed toward it. A long line of the faculty and college graduates was being rapidly formed; each of the latter wearing a band of purple and gold around the left arm. For the most part they were simply dressed, but in their bearing one could detect a vast difference from the raw material that had flocked in to Commencement. The little group from back in the hills was only one of many who looked with proud, expectant eyes toward the future. It would be a great day when one of their number stood in that long line waiting for the honours which were to crown faithful endeavour. Talitha was glad to discover her father looking with pleased interest at the young faces so full of promise. Her one desire had been to make him see the difference between those who had had advantages, and the boys and girls, who, without education, were living dull, cramped lives in the mountains. Suddenly the lively air changed, and a hundred young voices took up the refrain: “We march, we march, to victory—” Mrs. Coyle’s eyes filled as the ranks went sweeping by. She could hardly see to follow them, but Talitha’s strong arm supported her, and, heading the folks from Goose Creek, they filed into the Tabernacle and sat down with the great crowd who had already assembled.