"Did you see Elinor?" whispered Judith to Patricia, as she edged her way to her in the packed assembly room.  
Patricia shook her head. "She's with Griffin and Bottle Green," she answered under her breath. "What do you want her for?"
 
Judith's bow was on one eye and her hat under her arm, showing that she had made great haste to join the growing crowd in the first antique room. She looked even more agitated than Patricia had expected her to be.
 
"What's the matter?" insisted Patricia, nudging her to compel her attention, but Judith's gaze was wandering all about in search of Elinor, and she answered absently. "There she is, up on the stand with Griffin," she murmured in dismay. "I can never let her know. I wish I could catch her eye; can't you signal her, Miss Pat? You're taller than I am."
 
"What'll I tell her, if I do?" demanded Patricia indignantly. "I haven't any idea what you want to telegraph?"
 
"Tell her Bruce Haydon is here," said Judith. "Oh, there she goes! I was afraid you couldn't get her. She's sitting down beside Miss Green now, and we'll never be able to let her know."
 
"Bruce Haydon!" exclaimed Patricia, astonished. "Why, he's in Italy, isn't he? Elinor had a letter yesterday——"
 
"He's here all the same," said Judith, interrupting her surprise. "And he sent a message to Elinor, so she'd be prepared, I guess. But I simply can't get to her now. She'll have to find it out for herself."
 
"What's Bruce doing here?" asked Patricia, as they resigned themselves to the inevitable and prepared to await the event.
 
"He says he finished his studies, and has come back because he wanted to keep an eye on you two art students," replied Judith. "He looks awfully well. You ought to have seen them stare when he grabbed me up and kissed me in the corridor just now."
 
Patricia gave a happy sigh. "It'll be good to have him around again," she said appreciatively. "I never knew how weak in the knees I was until this very moment. Things are bound to go right with Bruce hovering around. I hope Elinor sees him. She's feeling mighty shaky right now, I fancy."
 
"Isn't it queer how wobbly one feels?" commented Judith uneasily. "We've been crazy for the time to come, and now we feel like running away. I know I'll simply drop when Mr. Benton makes his speech."
 
"Nonsense," said Patricia stoutly, although her own knees were not too steady. "Keep your eyes on Elinor, and remember how glad you are that she's getting an official apology, after all the cheating and nastiness—then you won't want to collapse."
 
"Sounds like you were prescribing for yourself," retorted Judith with a flash of intuition. "You look just as——"
 
"Hush, he's coming," warned Patricia, turning pale in spite of her brave words. "Listen, he has begun."
 
Her eyes sought the pale pure outline of Elinor's profile, caught between the intervening faces, and held it during the brief explanatory speech, wherein Mr. Benton paid his tribute to Elinor's generous silence, and apologized in the name of the Board for the unjust accusation. She saw the wave of color sweep over it at the commendatory words, and the dark eyes fall under the shame of the hinted treachery of the unnamed student whose face was in every one's mind. Then at the next words she saw the light flash into full radiance, as Mr. Benton, with something in his extended hand, turned full toward Elinor where she sat.
 
"And now, Miss Kendall," he finished with grave satisfaction in every word. "It is my privilege to award to you the Roberts prize of one hundred dollars, in recognition of the meritorious work done by you in the late competition. Will you kindly come forward to receive it?"
 
There was a general murmur of surprise and a following rustle of gratification.
 
Patricia's eyes were too blurred with happy tears to see very clearly, but she made out Elinor's figure bowing over the same purse that Doris Leighton had received ten short days ago, and she whispered to herself joyously, "Dear old Norn, they've more than paid up for all the horridness now, haven't they? And you deserve it all, too."
 
Judith, whose eyes were still wide with astonishment, touched her arm.
 
"Did you know?" she asked breathlessly. "Did anyone know she was going to get it?"
 
"Can't you tell by looking at them?" demanded Patricia. "Do they look as though they'd expected anything like this? Of course we didn't know. The Board didn't even peep to Bottle Green, for she's gaping like the rest."
 
"I see," acknowledged Judith, sweeping the ringleaders with her sharp scrutiny. "They're all simply stunned, but they're mighty glad, too. They're going to give the Academy Howl. Oh, Patricia, I wish I could howl, too!"
 
"Go ahead, if you can do it," said a masculine voice at her elbow. "The Academy won't object, I'm sure."
 
Patricia turned with a gasp of delight. "Bruce!" she cried delightedly. "You dear thing! You've come in the nick of time. Isn't it splendid that Elinor's won the prize? Did you hear about it? Aren't you perfectly crazy over it?"
 
Bruce laughed good-naturedly as he shook hands.
 
"I can't undertake to answer all that at once, Miss Pat," he said. "Let's go find what Elinor thinks about it."
 
He pushed a way for them to the group which surrounded the flushed and gracious recipient of the Roberts prize, and before Patricia quite realized how he did it, he had them ensconced with Elinor in a cozy corner of the print room, and had heard the whole story of the stolen design.
 
"It's a good thing you two innocents have a responsible person like Judith to look after you," he said seriously. "I don't know what you'd do without a protector to play providence for you."
 
Judith flushed and tossed her mane with a gratified air. "Oh, they don't think much of me," she rejoined. "They make fun of me lots of times."
 
"Is that so?" said Bruce, with great concern. "I'm sorry to hear that. I tell you what, Judy, we'll form a partnership, you and I, and we'll see to it that they behave themselves better in the future. They've proved that they can't take proper care of themselves, so we'll have to play guardian angels."
 
Elinor merely smiled her gentle, affectionate smile, but Patricia rippled out in mocking laughter.
 
"I like that!" she cried. "Who took care of us all those years when we were poor and alone in the world? It's late in the day for Elinor to need protectors."
 
"Nevertheless, she's going to have 'em," declared Bruce with undisturbed geniality. "You may mock us and you may shock us and you may say you don't care, but we're on the job for keeps, aren't we, Judith, ma chère? And the first step we're going to take in our new position is to drag you both off to luncheon this very minute. You'd best give in gracefully, for both Judy and I are fearfully strong and ferocious."
 
Judith giggled, but Patricia rose briskly.
 
"I guess you won't have to chloroform us to drag us there this time," she retorted. "I'm glad we're presentable, anyway. Aren't you thankful I made you put on your best duds, Norn? There's nothing like being contented when one feeds, and I couldn't partake of the stalled ox with any satisfaction in my old school rags."
 
Judith cuddled close to Bruce on the settee while Elinor went for her wraps.
 
"Patricia's awfully superficial, I think," she confided to him cheerfully, as she watched her readjusting her bright hair beneath the pretty hat rim at the quaint old mirror of the bookcase. "She's so set on pretty things. She just worships anyone who is pretty—no matter whether she understands their character or not. I wish we could make her more serious-minded and careful."
 
"Pooh," said Patricia, turning from her own reflection with a gay laugh. "You don't need to try. I do worship beauty, and I always shall. I like to laugh and sing and be happy. I like blue skies because God made them that way. And I don't think a pink rose is wickeder for being pink than if it were grubby gray. I think being happy is the serious business of life—when you take other people in with you—and I reckon God thinks so too."
 
"Pa-tri-cia!" ejaculated Judith in prim rebuke, but Bruce gave her hand a restraining squeeze, and Patricia went on, glowing with earnestness.
 
"There isn't any more goodness in dismal looks, no, nor half so much, as in happy faces. Don't the cherubim sing eternally? Is there anything said about dark days in the New Jerusalem? I'm ashamed of you, Judith Kendall, for not knowing that it's twice as brave and good to be cheerful and pretty as it is to be moping and dull. Look at Elinor—would we love her if she'd been fussing about the hard times we had? Not much! Every bright smile she had for those horrid times has made her more adorable to me and I look on every bit of happiness we had in those poor days as just so much wrested from the powers of darkness." She stopped suddenly, with a little gasp of embarrassment, as Elinor entered.
 
"Patricia's spouting again," remarked Judith with the serene cruelty of extreme youth. "I didn't mind, because I'm used to it, but I guess Bruce is thankful you didn't keep us any longer, Elinor."
 
Bruce rose and held out his hand to Patricia, who was flushing painfully.
 
"Don't mind the kid, Miss Pat dear," he said, with his most winning smile. "She doesn't know any better yet. Your religion is the sort we've got to grow into, and, even then, ............