266 ELIZABETH CARY AGASSIZ 
my task lighter by her appreciative acceptance of my 
efforts.” 
The story has often been told of Mrs. Agassiz that 
one year when the Commencement exercises were held in 
her own drawing-room, and there was only one candidate 
for a diploma, as she handed her the parchment adorned as 
usual with a rose thrust through the ribbon that bound it, 
she put both arms around the astonished girl’s neck and ex- 
claimed, “‘We’re proud of you, my dear!” And in the same 
spirit years later in Sanders Theatre when she conferred 
the first degree of doctor of philosophy given by Radcliffe 
College, she increased its value many fold to the recipient 
by her whispered, “‘So glad you have it, dear.” 
Her relation with the students, it should be said, was 
not one of daily intercourse, for she had no office hours 
and seldom met them except on public occasions and at 
social gatherings. After the Annex was installed in Fay 
House she saw them most frequently at the Wednesday 
afternoon teas which she established and which became a 
recognized college institution that she attended as long 
as it was possible for her to do so. These were held in 
the attractive, elliptical-shaped drawing-room, pleasantly 
shaded in spring and summer, and cheerful in winter with a 
blazing fire, fragrant with the delicate aroma of tea and 
lemon, and inviting with a special type of gay little Swed- 
ish cakes arrayed upon the tea-table. Here girls with scant 
experience of the world could meet pleasantly the friends of 
Mrs. Agassiz, attracted by her presence to the occasion; 
here an unfailing welcome was ready, given in tones that 
conveyed the very essence of kindliness even when the 
personality of the student was unknown; and here, best of 
