ettes that were to convey them
to the ruins. Each Form was accompanied by its own mistress, and Miss
Poppleton and Miss Edith completed the party. Every girl wore her briar
rose badge, and the officers their sashes and wreaths. The banner was
carried rolled up, but ready to be unfurled when the ceremonies should
begin. Riggside Tower, the old ruined keep that was the goal of their
excursion, had a romantic history of its own, and had been the scene of
many an exciting struggle in border warfare. The guidebook related the
legends of illustrious prisoners, fierce hand-to-hand combats, doughty
champions, secret passages, underground dungeons, thrilling escapes, and
other episodes of the past that added greatly to the attraction of the
ancient building.

Some of the girls had been there before, but to others it was a fresh
spot, and all looked with interest as the wagonettes turned a particular
corner of the road where the first glimpse of the castle could be seen.
It was a grey, turreted fortress, with half of its west wall battered
down by Cromwell's cannon, and the rest in a crumbling state, chiefly
held together by the great masses of ivy that clung round the worn
stones. In former days it must have been grim and bare enough, but
kindly Nature had thrown her mantle of greenery around it, and softened
its rugged outlines. Wallflowers and scarlet valerian and the pretty
trailing ivy-leaved toadflax were growing in every nook and cranny where
they could find roothold; a thick grove of trees clothed the base of the
south front; and the courtyard was a strip of verdant sward thickly
covered with daisies. Gipsy took a survey of the old keep with the
greatest complacency. No place could possibly have provided a better
background for the pageant she had arranged. The courtyard made a
natural theatre, and the stones lying about would provide seats for the
audience. Happily there were very few visitors that day, so they had the
castle almost to themselves, and could go through their programme
without interfering with the convenience of other people. It was decided
to begin the ceremonies at once, so that they would be over in good time
before tea.

The banner, which had been rolled on two school pointers, was unfurled
and borne aloft by Lennie Chapman and Meg Gordon, and very fine it
looked with its design of wild roses and its motto in the centre. The
members of the Guild, walking two and two, fell into line, and, preceded
by