value.
She stood in the damp and cold gazing up at the Record Wall, and
renewed the vow with fast-beating heart. The sun struggled from behind
the clouds and lit up the surface of the tablets, and the Honours girl,
and the B.A. girl, and the girls who had won the scholarships, seemed to
smile upon her and wish her success, but Eleanor Newman's name was in
the shade. The sun had not troubled to light it up. She was "stupid,"
and had never won a prize.

The last two days were broken and unsatisfactory, and Rhoda longed for
the time of departure to arrive; yet it was not without a pang of regret
that she opened her eyes on the last morning, and gazed round the little
blue cubicle. It was delightful to be going home, yet school had its
strong points, and there were one or two partings ahead which could not
be faced without depression. How nice it would be if she could take all
her special friends home--Dorothy and Kathleen, and Miss Everett, and--
yes! Tom herself; for, wonderful to state, she was unaffectedly sorry
to part from Tom. What fun they would have had running riot in Erley
Chase, and summoning the whole household to wait on their caprices!

The gong rang, and all the little bells followed suit in their usual
objectionable fashion, but the girls yawned and lay still for another
five minutes, aware that leniency was the order of the day. The roll of
the organ and the first two lines of the hymn found them still in bed,
and the words were clearly distinguishable:--

Awake my soul, and with the sun, Thy daily course of duty run--

"How stupid!" commented Rhoda to herself. "`Course of duty' on the very
day we are leaving school. What a ridiculous choice!" and then she
tumbled out of bed and listened no more.

The rest of the morning seemed a comical Alice-in-Wonderland repetition
of the day of arrival. The same long queues were formed to march down,
instead of upstairs; the teachers stood on the landings to say good-bye,
instead of welcome; the "Black Marias" bore the pupils to, instead of
from, the station, where the saloon carriages stood waiting as before.
The Blues crowded into one carriage, and Tom seated herself by Rhoda,
and with twinkling eyes called attention to the undulating beauty of the
landscape. It was all exactly the same, yet delightfully different, for
now there was no shyness nor restraint, but the agreeable consciousness
of liberty to chaff in return, and be as cheeky as one chose