"Why, it's all ready," cried Patricia wondering at her changed manner. "We put the sliced lemon on the very last thing.",
"Hush!" she cautioned, slipping an absent hand into Judith's quivering palm. "Bruce is talking. Oh, isn't he dear, to say nice things of each of us. It's like commencement time, Ju, isn't it? All the good little girls get prizes, but I wish he wouldn't go back to that honorable mention of mine. I feel like an impostor.",
"She used to be," was Judith's frank reply. "But since you've become an artist, like Aunt Louise, she fairly adores you!".
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