“If you don’t send Mr. James Watson packing the minute the concert is out, you’ll miss the sensation of this commencement,” Madeline warned Betty solemnly when she arrived. There was a smudge of brown paint across her white linen skirt, and Nita declared feelingly that she would never make another pair of wings, no, not for any aftermath parade that ever was. These were the only clues to the extra-special features that they had planned for the evening.