r
own."

"Oh, she'll be the gray mare, don't you fear! But honestly I'm glad! She
has her points, and I hope she'll be happy."

"I wonder who'll have her form next term?"

"That doesn't concern us, for we shall probably be in the Sixth."

"Help! So we shall! I can't bring my mind to it yet. It gives me
spasms!"

"Quite a blossomy prospect, though!"

On the afternoon before breaking-up day, the School Parliament met for
the last time. Lispeth, rather sad, and inclined to be sentimental,
reviewed from The Chair the events of the past year.

"It has been pioneer work," she said. "I dare say we might have done it
better, but at least we've tried. We laid ourselves out to set a
standard for the tone of the school, and I think it has kept up fairly
well on the whole. The Rainbow League seems thoroughly established, and
likely to go on. May I read you some of the things it has done during
the year? We made four pounds for the 'War-Orphans Fund,' and sent
ninety-seven home-made toys to poor children's treats. The Posy Union
gave nine pots of crocuses and fifty-six bunches of flowers to cripples
and invalids; the penny-a-week subscriptions have kept two little girls
all the summer at the children's camp, and the Needlework Guild has made
thirty-seven garments. It doesn't sound much when you put it all in hard
black and white like that! I hate reports and statistics of societies,
they always sound to me somehow so pharisaical, as if we were saying:
'Look how good we are!' You know I don't mean that. What I _do_ mean,
though, is that we've tried not to run everything entirely for
ourselves. A rainbow shines when the world is clearing up, and perhaps
our little efforts, small as they are, show that things are moving in
the right direction. Next term all of us girls in the Sixth will have
left, and a new set will take the lead. I can't say yet who will be Head
of the school, but I don't fancy there's very much doubt about it. I
hope whoever has the reins will keep up what we have worked so hard for
this year."

Lispeth was looking straight at Ingred as she spoke; her meaning was
unmistakable. Ingred blushed a faint rosy pink. It had only just dawned
upon her that next term would possibly bring her the greatest honor that
the College had to confer.

"Whoever is chosen for head-girl," she stammered bashfully, "I'm sure
will try her very best to work for the good of the school. She couldn't
do more than you've done--probabl