"I don't feel that way at all--" began Judith, but their murmured comments halted at Bruce's next words.

"And I am glad to tell you that the youngest of our promising students has also made good in her own department," he said, with a smile at the corner where Judith reared her head with sudden pride.

"Miss Judith Kent Kendall has just had her first story accepted and printed in _The Girl's Companion_."

Patricia gasped, and in the moment's silence that fell she gave the promising auth.o.r.ess a little shake.

"So that was what you were up to?" she said. "I knew you had something on your mind, Judy Kendall, you crafty, clever thing. How perfectly glorious to think you're really in print!"

Judith pulled out of her embrace.

"Don't make a show of me, Miss Pat," she commanded reproachfully. "It isn't correct to show that you are so delighted."

She turned to receive the congratulations that crowded on her, and Patricia, with a gay little ripple of amus.e.m.e.nt, watched the slender childish figure straighten to its utmost height and a.s.sume an air of grave affability as Judith responded to her ovation.

"That kid is a born actress," said David in her ear. "Look at her, Miss Pat. Isn't she the picture of an eminent auth.o.r.ess at a club reception?"

Patricia smiled and opened her lips, but the words died away, as Bruce, now with a gayety that bespoke a different sort of announcement, mounted the model stand in the middle of the room, and rapped loudly for attention. Miss Jinny had vainly tried to grab his sleeve as he slipped past her and now stood with an expression of grim martyrdom glaring at Mr. Spicer, who was smiling at her openly and, Patricia thought, heartlessly.

"I have a postscript to add," smiled Bruce. "Sometimes, as you know, the postscript is of great importance."

He paused a moment till the silence was perfect and then he said, with a pretense of reading a notice from a sheet of paper:

"Mrs. Virginia P. Sh.e.l.ly announces the engagement of her daughter Virginia E. to Mr. Nathaniel Spicer, late of the Geological Survey----"

He got no further. Miss Jinny, who had won first place in the interest of the art community as Sinbad and kept it by her own wholesome goodness, was surrounded and overwhelmed. Patricia was the first to seize her unwilling hand.

"Now I _shall_ see how an engaged couple behaves!" she cried triumphantly. "You shan't escape me, mind you, for I'm your very nearest friend, and I'll be your bridesmaid if you'll let me."

Miss Jinny came to herself with a chuckle. "My gracious, Patricia Kendall, what are you thinking of!" she exclaimed in growing amazement.

"Are you mad enough to imagine I'm going to behave like a lunatic, just because I'm taking a new name to myself? Do behave or I'll never speak to you again!"

"That's the way to squelch her," laughed Griffin, who was pumping the beaming Mr. Spicer's hand like mad. "She'd be a regular nuisance if you encouraged her. I'll warn Bottle Green----"

"What, you don't mean to say--" interrupted Margaret Howes. "I heard that Jeffries took her to the vaudeville show and I thought that was a tremendous change of heart for nice old Greenie."

"Yep, she's engaged to Jeffries," announced Griffin with great enjoyment. "Has Elinor heard? Let's go break the news."

Patricia preceded them to the corner where Elinor, rather pale and agitated, was holding back as Bruce tried to lead her to the model stand. Patricia thought that Bruce's insistence had something to do with the decoration, which was half forgotten by most of the company, and she laid a detaining hand on Elinor's other arm.

"What do you want to make a show of her for, Bruce?" she remonstrated feelingly. "You can say all you have to say right here, can't you?"

Then her breath caught in her throat and her heart gave a sudden _flop_, for, as Elinor raised her left hand there was a flash and glitter of gems--a new splendid circle of diamonds scintillated on Elinor's third finger.

"Oh, Norn," she gasped, dropping her hand and searching Elinor's flushing face with questioning eyes. "You too?"

Elinor nodded mutely and clasped Patricia's two hands in her own.

Bruce took Patricia's other hand in his strong, warm grasp and the three stood for a silent second as much apart from the gay, noisy scene as though a curtain had dropped between them.

"I'm awfully glad," said Patricia, recovering herself first and beginning to realize the joyfulness of the astounding news. "Let me tell them, will you?"

It was not until all the guests had gone, and David and his friends had taken their reluctant leave with fervid promises of speedy reunion at Greycroft, and the packers had disappeared with the big canvas and the cartoons [Transcriber's note: cartons?], and Hannah Ann and Henry had reduced everything to a state of perfection that even the most critical Symons in the world could not cavil at, and Bruce had said his last farewells and was on the blue rug at the studio door with his hand on the k.n.o.b to usher them out, that Patricia found utterance for her seething thoughts.

"I may be a believer in votes for women," she said solemnly, clasping her vanity case so hard that she unconsciously shattered its clasp. "I may be a yellow suffragist, as Judy calls me, but I must say, men can make things mighty comfortable for you."

There was a shout of amazed laughter, but Patricia persisted:

"Look at us last fall before we discovered David; look at us now; look at Miss Jinny; look at Elinor's canvas--which she couldn't have dreamed of doing if Miss Auborn had been chaperoning her! I tell you, men have ways of doing things that hit _the spot_, and I think it's a shame they don't get the credit for it."

Bruce c.o.c.ked his head mischievously at her.

"Are you going to promulgate that doctrine at the Suffrage League?" he asked, beginning to turn the k.n.o.b.

"Yes, I am--if I ever go there," returned Patricia with great spirit.

"But I shan't have time for a long while. I'm going to raise chickens with Miriam Halden this summer, and I've got to start in right away with the plans for the houses and yards."

Bruce flung the door wide.

"Well, we're turning another page of our lives," he said with a backward glance at the rooms where they had been so busy and so happy.

"Who can say what will be written there?"

Judith shrugged uneasily.

"That gives me the creeps," she remonstrated. "I don't like it. It sounds like funerals and ghosts----"

Patricia broke in on her dismal forebodings with a rippling, silvery laugh.

"It sounds like wedding bells to me!" she cried, gayly. "You and I don't hear alike, Ju. It sounds like wedding bells, and commencement essays, and checks for stories, and--and--and----"

"What, else?" demanded Judith, whose color had been rising at the alluring forecast. Patricia made a despairing little gesture. "I can't think of anything that will fit poor me," she confessed with mock dejection. "I'm so everlastingly commonplace that I don't sound at all."

"Yes, you do, too!" cried Judith ardently, flinging out a masterpiece.

"You sound like a _syncopated opera_; doesn't she, Bruce?"

Patricia started as the grotesque words sank deep.

"You just wait till _I_ try my real wings," she said with a queer little catch in her throat. "I've forgotten all about my dear music in these three riotous months, but I'll soon be ready to begin again."

"Is your laurel wreath on good and tight, Judy?" asked Bruce with a twinkle. "I'm going to beg Elinor to have hers tied on with nice little blue ribbons. Miss Pat is on the rampage for fame, and it isn't safe to take chances."

Patricia underwent a swift change as she lifted her shining eyes to Bruce's laughing face.

"Pooh, I'm not a bit dangerous and you know it, Bruce Haydon," she said with returning gayety. "I'm the family grub, and Judy and Elinor are the splendid b.u.t.terflies." She paused with a merry gurgle. "I'm going to raise chickens for these two glittering geniuses. Greycroft shall be my field of conquest and the white plume that leads to victory will be an Orpington. Lead on!"

The door clicked behind them and they set their faces to the sunset, and Greycroft, and home.