Reunion

So at odd moments such as this, unexpectedly, bits of college life flash across our memory. But we of the Class of 1915, loath to break away from the happy associations that bound us together, were not content to go to our respective parts of the world and let New Rochelle and one another rest as memories. We, therefore designated Commencement Week of 1917, when our sister class would be graduated, as our first period of reunion; the next period to be 1920 and then every five years thereafter.
    
In Commencement Week of June 1917, all but a very few of us returned to New Rochelle. Mrs. Beattie of Circle Road very kindly rented her house to us for the week, and but that it wasn’t the Country Club or Stoddard or “38,” but a really truly home, we might have been students again.
    
On the evening of our arrival, Catherine Ball, our President, gave an old-time kimono party. However, instead of the usual college kitchenette, the supper was served in Mrs. Beattie’s very lovely dining-room. This was the most exciting night of the reunion, for some of us had not seen each other during the intervening two years. The evening was spent in talking over the old days, when we took our Tennis Court Oath and did other wildly exciting things. And then how eagerly we listened to the experiences of the past two years. Interest centered around Swiftie, Gertrude and Peg, our three brides. Whether or not the rest of us had had sixty nerve racking little demons to teach or had been rejected by the moving picture manager who was starring Billie Burke, was of no moment, but the missing of the train on the honeymoon, and what the brides gave the adored ones for breakfast, seemed to deeply concern each of the brides’ spinster sisters.
    
Because of the many college affairs during the week, we planned only two formal functions: our Class Dinner and a luncheon to 1917.
    
The Class Dinner was served in Father Halpin’s dining-room, and we were just a sufficient number to sit at the round table decorated with Cerise shaded candles and American Beauty roses, our class flower and color. The girls looked charming; the dinner was excellent and everyone was happy; but into the eyes of three there crept a vague, distracted look.
    
The lunch for 1917 helped more than anything else to bridge our two years’ absence. The buffet table was set in the living-room and decorated in Purple and White, ‘17’s colors. We sat comfortably in the large chairs and couches and while we ate learned all the latest gossip. After lunch we danced until it was time for the Seniors to dress for their Tea.
    
So the days sped all too quickly in the round of Commencement Week pleasures; walks along Pelham and 1915 parties in the house on Circle Road, and one never-to-be-forgotten trip to Mount Vernon in which Swiftie played the leading role. One by one we left until only Olive, Dorothy and I remained, and finally, most reluctantly, we, too, left the lilacs and checkered sunshine, the voices and the laughter.

From 1918 Annales