Baccalaureate was over, and, early Monday evening, groups were already gathering on the campus at the rear of College Hall, eager to secure comfortable places for the glee club concert. It was one of the charming pictures of the year, that concert, the cluster of girls on the steps facing the long rows of well-filled benches below. Beyond the benches, and extending far across the grass to the very steps of the old Dewey House, was a moving, shifting crowd, changing in form and color, as the brightly-dressed girls came and went, like the varying slides of a kaleidoscope. Back of the glee club, again, the open windows of the reading-room were filled with faces of old graduates who knew the place, and who chose this point of vantage either to protect their gowns and their elderly necks from the dampness outside, or to use their position facing the crowd to discover returning classmates whom they had missed in the throng. "There's the class president," one of them said to a friend who had arrived, only that afternoon. "Which?" "That tall girl in pale green at the left. She's in the fourth, fifth, sixth row; and a tall, gray-haired man is with her, and a young man the other side." "Looking this way now?" "Yes. I don't see anything so remarkable about her; but they say she's one of the most popular girls they've ever had here." "That is saying a good deal," her companion answered loyally, as she raised her lorgnette. "They wanted her for ivy poet, but she couldn't be everything. She's class poet, though, and was Portia in the dramatics, Saturday night." "What's her name?" "McAlister. Theodora McAlister. She looks it, too; but these soulless girls all call her Teddy." "McAlister? That is the name of the girl who made such a record in basket ball, when I was up here, last winter. They had a song in her honor." "Probably it's the same one. My cousin says she is very all-round. All the under-class girls adore her, and they say she'll be heard from, some day. Did you say Edith Avery is back?" Theodora, meanwhile, had settled her guests comfortably to listen to the concert. They were all there, Dr. McAlister and his wife, Hope and Hubert, Phebe and Allyn, and the Farringtons. Among so many girls, Hope, in her pretty pink gown, was quite capable of holding her own; and Billy and Hubert were in such demand that, all that day, Theodora had scarcely had a chance to exchange a word with them. It was just as well, however, for the girl's hands were full, with the active part which her offices had imposed upon her.