ost of
the girls, and spurred many on to greater efforts than they would
otherwise have attempted. All looked forward to the meetings, and there
could be no greater punishment for certain offences than a temporary
withdrawal of League privileges.

This September, after the long summer holiday, the reunion seemed of
even more than ordinary importance.

The sun had set, the last gleam of the afterglow had faded, and the
glade had grown full of dim shadows by the time everybody was present in
the grove. The gentle rustle of the leafy boughs overhead, and the
persistent tumbling rush of the stream, seemed like a faint orchestral
accompaniment of Nature for the ceremonial.

"Is it a Quakers' Meeting or a Freemasons' Lodge? You're all very mum,"
asked Rona, whom curiosity had led out with the others.

"Sh-sh! We're waiting for our 'Guardian of the Fire'," returned Ulyth,
trying to suppress the loudness of the high-pitched voice. "Mrs.
Arnold's generally very punctual. Oh, there! I believe I hear her
ringing her bicycle bell now. I'm going down the field to meet her."

Ulyth regarded Mrs. Arnold with that intense adoration which a girl of
fifteen often bestows on a woman older than herself. She ran now through
the wood, hoping she might be in time to catch her idol on the drive and
have just a few precious moments with her before she was joined by the
others. There were many things she wanted to pour into her friend's
ready ears, but she knew it would be impossible to monopolize her as
soon as the rest of the girls knew of her arrival. She fled as on wings,
therefore, and had the supreme satisfaction of being the first in the
field. Mrs. Arnold, young, very fair, graceful, and golden-haired,
looked a picture in her blue cycling costume as she leaned her machine
against a tree and greeted her enthusiastic admirer.

"Oh, you darling! I've such heaps to tell you!" began Ulyth, clasping
her tightly by the arm. "Rona Mitchell has come, and she's the most
awful creature! I never was so disappointed in my life. Don't you
sympathize with me, when I expected her to be so ripping? She's absolute
backwoods!"

"Yes, I've heard all about her. Poor child! She must have had a strange
training. It's time indeed she began to learn something."

"She's not learned anything in New Zealand. Oh, her voice will just
grate on you! And her manners! She's hopeless! Everything she does and
says is wrong. And to think she's been foisted on to me