It was unfamiliar.  Perhaps this was the third time she had been in it since she was a very small child.  Her eyes ranged over the beautiful walnut dresser, the tall bureau, the big chest, inside which she never had seen, and the row of masculine attire hanging above it.  Somewhere a dainty lawn or mull dress simply must be hanging:  but it was not.  Elnora dropped on the chest because she felt too weak to stand.  In less than two hours she must be in the church, at Onabasha.  She could not wear a last year’s washed dress.  She had nothing else.  She leaned against the wall and her father’s overcoat brushed her face.  She caught the folds and clung to it with all her might.

“Oh father!  Father!” she moaned.  “I need you!  I don’t believe you would have done this!” At last she opened the door.

“I can’t find my dress,” she said.

“Well, as it’s the only one there I shouldn’t think it would be much trouble.”

“You mean for me to wear an old washed dress to-night?”

“It’s a good dress.  There isn’t a hole in it!  There’s no reason on earth why you shouldn’t wear it.”

“Except that I will not,” said Elnora.  “Didn’t you provide any dress for Commencement, either?”

“If you soil that to-night, I’ve plenty of time to wash it again.”

Wesley’s voice called from the gate.

“In a minute,” answered Elnora.

She ran upstairs and in an incredibly short time came down wearing one of her gingham school dresses.  Her face cold and hard, she passed her mother and went into the night.  Half an hour later Margaret and Billy stopped for Mrs. Comstock with the carriage.  She had determined fully that she would not go before they called.  With the sound of their voices a sort of horror of being left seized her, so she put on her hat, locked the door and went out to them.

“How did Elnora look?” inquired Margaret anxiously.

“Like she always does,” answered Mrs. Comstock curtly.

“I do hope her dresses are as pretty as the others,” said Margaret.  “None of them will have prettier faces or nicer ways.”

Wesley was waiting before the big church to take care of the team.  As they stood watching the people enter the building, Mrs. Comstock felt herself growing ill.  When they went inside among the lights, saw the flower-decked stage, and the masses of finely dressed people, she grew no better.  She could hear Margaret and Billy softly commenting on what was being done.

“That first chair in the very front row is Elnora’s,” exulted Billy, “cos she’s got the highest grades, and so she gets to lead the procession to the platform.”