Hippy Wingate and Reddy Brooks came down the aisle in immaculate attire. David followed behind, pale and silent. Did David suspect anything about his sister? Grace wondered. Certainly he had directly or indirectly been the means of balking every one of Miriam's schemes for injuring Anne. Perhaps Miriam had told him she was to win the prize, and he was thinking of Anne's disappointment. All three boys paused when they saw their friends of the Christmas house party. Hippy leaned over to say: "Hello, girls! Can you guess what has brought us here to-night, all dressed up in our best?" "Not unless it was to show off your clothes," replied Nora. "To see Miss Anne Pierson win the freshman prize. Simply that, and nothing more." "But I don't expect to win it, Hippy," protested Anne. "If you don't, you aren't the girl we took you for, then," replied Hippy. "I heard from a young person in your class that you hadn't made a mistake in six months." "But just as many people think Miriam will win," said Anne. "Look at all the people congratulating her already." Surely enough Miriam's friends had rallied around her at the final test, and numbers of girls and boys and grown people, too, were already prophesying victory. Just then the audience composed itself, for the exercises were about to begin. Soft music was heard and the graduates filed out and took their seats. Immediately they were seated, Mrs. Gray, in a beautiful lavender silk gown and a white lace bonnet trimmed with violets, swept down the aisle, bowing and smiling right and left. "Girls!" cried Grace delightedly, looking over her shoulder, "guess who is with our precious little Mrs. Gray?" "Tom Gray!" cried the others in unison, just as Tom Gray himself appeared opposite them and waved his hat, regardless of the many eyes fastened upon him, for Mrs. Gray was an important personage not only at these annual assemblages, but in Oakdale itself, of which she had always been a most generous and loyal citizen. Mrs. Gray nodded cordially when she saw the girls, but shook her head over Anne's pale, drawn little face. As the ceremonies proceeded after the opening prayer, Anne felt herself drifting further and further away. She was a little boat on a troubled, restless sea, with the noise of the waves in her head, and only occasionally did she hear some one's voice reading a graduating essay or making a speech--she couldn't tell which. She remembered there was a piano solo, very loud and crashing, it seemed to her, and there was a tremendous humming sound. The sea was growing very rough, she thought. A storm was brewing somewhere. Then the wind died down again, there was a complete and utter silence and she seemed to be entirely alone.