Half Loaves by Margaret Culkin Banning

It was Alumne Day at the convent. Alumne Day meant a half holiday for the students, frosted cakes for "gouter" at four o'clock, the formal rooms and study halls and dormitories extra well cleaned and polished, the Chapel sweet with the fragrance of garden flowers sent by some graduate, the nuns a little more hurried than usual, though always composed, their immaculate ruffs whiter, if possible, than ever. Alumne Day brought with it a reception for the graduates who came to inspect the convent and to be present at the awarding of the gold medal for Composition and the silver one for French Verse, always given in October to members of the graduating class and worn proudly throughout the year. Benediction was especially beautiful with the extra candles on the altar and Mother Barante's voice singing the "Tantum Ergo," and many a graduate, mentally scarred from some of her contacts with life, often a little heart-sick at the failure of her ideals or broken by some sorrow, eased herself in memories of the peace of her schooldays. There was always a sale, too, of the handiwork of the girls and the money went to the support of the little charity school on the back of the convent grounds. Embroidered towels, pillow cases and such little luxuries were sold for ridiculously high sums and the graduates brought their friends to buy, too, and swell the fund for the charity school.

It was here that Cecily first met Fliss after the discussion with her husband and his rather disturbing lunch at the Lennox. By tacit consent Cecily and Dick had abandoned the plan for a "little dinner and the Orpheum" for the time being, both feeling a little fraid to reopen the discussion on points which might prove sensitive.