The next two weeks were the busiest and the happiest that Judith had ever known. It would have been a joy merely to be alive on such blue, unclouded days of golden sunshine. Even examination tests, which she still dreaded, were bringing with them a curious happiness.

"I don't know how it is," Judith confided to the crew of the "Jolly Susan" one morning as bed-making was in progress, "but there is something nice about exams after all."

"Nice!" came from Josephine and Jane,—"Nice!"

"Well, it may be all very well for you if you want to show off how much ancient history you've crammed up," said Sally May rather crossly; "I don't see anything nice about them. I hate this ancient history, silly old names! I don't know who won one of these battles"—and she continued to mutter to herself a list of battles of the Peloponnesian War, which she was memorizing in preparation for the history test.

"But," Judith persisted, "there is something nice about them; it must be measuring ourselves against others and doing our very best, just like the high jumping on Field Day. Now you know very well you enjoyed that," she continued, going to Josephine's door and noting with surprise that Josephine was actually cleaning her white shoes.

"'Course," said Josephine; "Ça va sans dire. Ha! Thought I'd make you open your eyes quoting French as to the manner born, and cleaning shoes into the bargain! Mademoiselle made me learn five phrases—had to write them out a hundred times. What I say is, lessons are lessons, and jumping is jumping; one's nasty and t'other's nice if you like."

Judith was interested in Josephine's French.

"Let's have the other phrases, Josephine."

"Not me," answered Josephine elegantly. "Moi, I shall scatter them about gracefully. Dad will probably think I'm well-educated when I go home, and if I'm tidy, too, my mother will be perfectly satisfied."

"Well, you'd better begin on your room," said Jane who had joined them. "I notice, Miss Burley, that you received 'C' and a disorderly mark last week, and friend Genevieve says that Miss Watson is on the war-path this week."

"Miss Marlowe says I'm incorrigible," said Josephine, sadly shaking her head. "Heigho! It's hard luck being born so careless; I get blamed for everything. 'Eh bien! mademoiselle,' I shall say gently the next time I'm reproved, 'Je ferai mon possible!' and by means of these choice little French phrases and a perfectly clean pair of shoes, my reputation will improve. Voyez!"

Every spare moment was being spent out-of-doors these days, so Sally May and Judith took their history books out under Judith's favorite acacia trees, and Judith good-naturedly, for every moment was precious, gave Sally May a half-hour's grind on her ancient history before morning school. When the ten-minute bell rang, their books were closed with a bang almost before the bell had ceased, and they were dancing and leaping and running across the lawn and round the tennis courts, where they ran into Nancy.

"Just think!" she cried, "Margaret Leslie is going to be house mother for the Old Girls this year, and she says that there are about a hundred out-of-town girls coming to the Reunion, and of course there'll be heaps of town girls. Won't it be heavenly?"—and she hopped on one foot for joy. Then the three had a race to the schoolroom door. Middies and bloomers simply compel one to run and scamper.

Judith thought about the Reunion as the form filed in silently to prayers. Nancy had talked about it all year; she thought it the happiest time of the year, and as she had been at York Hill all her school days she would know a number of the girls who were coming back.

"They are here for four days," Nancy had told her, "so we just pack those days full. There's the Reunion tea, and the grandchildren's party, and the suppers and the plays, and then Sunday and prize-giving. I get so happy I feel that I'll burst if I'm not careful."

Form Five were already hard at work on their songs for the supper party; Judith was to respond to a toast. The play was well under way by Easter-time, as Judith knew, for she was a hard-working member of the Properties Committee. What she did not know was that her name had been seriously considered for one of the parts and Catherine and Eleanor had strongly urged her fitness. But Miss Marlowe had cautioned them: "Judith has had a good first year, but I'm not sure that a prominent part in another play wouldn't spoil it for her. Remember she had an important part at Christmas-time. Don't turn her head." Eleanor saw the point and Judith was instead put on the committee where she was doing good work.

This year there was the added delight of the wedding. Last night Miss Meredith had given the invitations, and the School, you may be sure, would "accept with pleasure."

Form Five A held a meeting at recess time. They must get Miss Ashwell a wedding present.

"Form Two and Form Four are going to give her a hankie shower," said Joyce Hewson, "and Patricia told me that the Sixth Form is going to give her a linen shower."

"And Domestic Science are having a kitchen shower," joined in Frances. "I don't see what there's left for us."

Books were suggested, but voted down. "Besides, we haven't enough money," said Nancy, "Miss Meredith said we mustn't spend much."

Nancy wanted to put the money into a lump sum and buy one nice thing, a picture or a piece of silver or something like that. But the majority of the girls favoured the shower idea. A tea-cup shower was discussed, and seemed to be the most popular of all the plans yet made, when Peggy said she believed the Staff were buying china. She and her mother had met three of the Staff in Smith's on Saturday morning, and she guessed from what they said that that was what they doing.

Judith had been thinking—what would Miss Ashwell like? What does she like to do? And a picture flashed into her mind of Miss Ashwell in garden hat and gloves snipping Miss Meredith's rosebushes and talking to Judith about Gloire de Dijons, and Frau Druschkis and Prince Ruperts and Lady Ursulas, as if they were intimate friends. Judith jumped up excitedly.

"Madam President," she said eagerly, "why shouldn't we have a flower shower? I mean plants, rosebushes and Canterbury bells and lilacs if they haven't got 'em, and maybe a cherry tree," she added as the plan grew before her eyes.

Pros and cons were discussed. Perhaps "White Cottage" already had a good garden. No, she had heard the Major say—here Judith blushed and stammered as she heard Jane observe, "Great friend of the Major's is Judy"—that the garden was no good; anyway, they could find out. Perhaps Miss Meredith would find out for them.

"But it'll be too late to plant cherry trees and lilac bushes," objected Alicia Harris, who was a practical gardener and had been a steady worker in the War Garden Committee. That was so!

Besides, the bride and groom were going to France and what would the garden do in the meantime? Judith looked quite blank. Just when it had seemed such a lovely plan! She could see the climbing rose she meant to give and had already congratulated herself on asking for some extra pocket money for the last term. But Nancy came to the rescue.

"I know; let's give the money and the order for the flowers or bushes to a florist and ask him to set them out in the proper time in the fall, and we'll give Miss Ashwell a card with the name of the flowers we have chosen, and, oh, then we could have rhymes. We'd put 'Violets' on the card and then—

But Rosamond had a more practical suggestion still.

"Let's get the little wooden tags that the florists use and put on them the name of the flower, and the giver's name, and then we could tie another little paper tag to them with the rhyme on it."

This was received with applause and the resolution was put to the vote and carried enthusiastically. Judith looked admiringly at Nancy and Rosamond as the meeting broke up and wondered how they could think of such clever things, and was surprised and delighted after the meeting when Nancy slipped her arm through hers and whispered:

"Bully for you, Judy; I don't know how you think of such clever things."

Next day there was another Form meeting and a committee was appointed—Judy was glad that she was chosen—to get permission to go downtown and enquire prices at the florists. Five B and Five C, whose Presidents applied to Nancy for ideas, decided to further the scheme by buying fruit bushes, raspberries, strawberries, currants, gooseberries, and young fruit trees, and Miss Watson, who was Five C's Form Mistress, proved a very useful ally, for a distant relative was a partner in one of the biggest wholesale florist establishments and she offered to take the committee there and get the plants at the lowest possible rates. Her sudden popularity and the feeling of importance which pervaded her at each of the many consultations during the next few days (for it turned out that Miss Watson had been brought up in a beautiful old garden at home in Scotland) were to remain delectable memories for many a long day.

A 'phone message brought wonderful catalogues from MacIver & Watson, and for a day or two the Fifth Form presented a very studious appearance. Groups of two or three might be seen in sitting-room or playroom and out-of-doors on the quadrangle poring over books, but the interested teachers who observed this phenomenon also noticed that the books they earnestly perused were richly and gaudily illustrated.

Judith had to give up her cherished notion of a climbing rose, because the rest of the "Jolly Susan" were determined to give Canterbury bells. The proposal had come from Jane. "They're blue and that's the sailor's colour and bells are nautical too." So Judith gave in gracefully and the five of them pooled their contributions and stipulated what they wanted, a row of Canterbury bells in the perennial border. Nancy was strong on perennials. "We don't want flowers that will die off," she said emphatically, "but something that will come up every year."

"Won't it be nice!" said Judith. "One spring morning the Major will come in to breakfast with the cheerful news, 'Spring has come, my dear, the Peggy Forrest (her violets, you know) are coming up under the birch tree. Come and see them.'"

"And Mrs. Major," finished Nancy, laughing, "will say, 'Please sit down, the coffee will be cold in another minute.'"

Saturday morning saw the delegation packed into the school motor off to town under the chaperonage of Miss Watson. No one noticed now, you may be sure, how many r's the good lady rolled and her reminiscences of "Roses I have known" were received with the greatest respect. It took them a long time to decide, even with their lists culled from the catalogues and suggestions obtained from Jennings, but finally every one was satisfied, and they carried off a box full of the little wooden tags which Rosamond had wisely suggested.

The business in hand being disposed of, their thoughts turned with amazing promptness to ice-cream. Now according to custom permission might be desired (probably) and received (possibly) for ice-cream after a special visit into town during the week, but on Saturday mornings the shopping party were under instructions to return home promptly when the necessary "shopping" was completed. This expedition seemed to come under neither heading; true, it was Saturday morning, but then it was not the regular shopping party. After some whispered coaxing, Nancy was prevailed upon to put the delicate question to Miss Watson. She summoned her sweetest and most guileless smile as she broached the subject, but Miss Watson was ready for her. "I was sure you'd ask, so I got permission from Miss Marlowe for you to have one dish at Huyler's or Page & Shaw's. We'll have to hurry." Miss Watson's popularity was complete!

The committee worked hard for an hour after lunch, but finally the last of the tags was allotted and distributed, and those who were going out were exhorted not to come back without their rhymes, as they must be ready for Monday. Miss Meredith had issued orders that Miss Ashwell, who was relieved of all school duties for this last week, must be quite free after Tuesday, so the showers were to be held on Monday and Tuesday. The staff were having a supper-party on Saturday night when the china was to be presented, and altogether Miss Ashwell was to be a much-fÊted person.

"Of course the Old Girls will do something nice," said Nancy—"trust them. I guess Susanne is waiting until the out-of-town girls come. Miss Ashwell has been secretary of the Old Girls for two years, so she specially belongs to them. I wonder what they will do."

The next week was packed full to overflowing with good times. First came the kitchen shower which the Domestic Science Form had planned as their share in the festivities.

Judith and Nancy were not invited to the party, but they coaxed Helen to let them see the big clothes-basket full of mysterious little parcels looking very bride-like in their white tissue and satin ribbons.

"Miss Ashwell has got to guess what's in each one," explained Helen importantly as she cut cake, "and if she doesn't guess right, the parcel belongs to Major Phillips. Well, just a small piece, Nancy; here, Judy, you can have the plate to scrape."

The two were still busily scraping chocolate icing out of a bowl when the strains of the wedding march were heard in the next room, and, peeping through the crack of the kitchen door, they beheld a rather flustered-looking Miss Ashwell trying to guess the first parcel.

Helen shooed them off, declaring they had no manners at all, and that they had better see that they were ready for their own party.

Judith and Nancy were indignant at the implication that they were not well prepared for the morrow, but just before "Lights out" bell sounded, Judith asked Sally May to let her see the rhyme for the Canterbury bells tag.

"Why—I thought you and Nancy were doing it. I heard you trying to get a rhyme for 'Susan.'"

"Well, we couldn't," said Judith weakly; "I thought you had one written already."

"We'll have to get up at six o'clock, every one of us," declared Nancy; "put a pencil and paper beside your bed; each of us has got to have a rhyme and then we'll choose the best."

There was much yawning and stifled groaning next morning, but Nancy was firm and refused to retire to her own cubicle until she had seen each member of the crew provided with pencil and paper.

The fires of poetic genius burned low at such an early morning hour, but they knew, as well as Nancy did, that there would be no time after breakfast. So after much frowning and biting of pencils, five verses were written, and handed to Catherine to choose the best.

It was an exciting afternoon. There was a Senior cricket match being played and the Fifth-Formers were loath to lose one minute of that. Judith and Nancy were especially keen to watch Catherine's play. They would dash over to the match for ten minutes, and then race off to squeeze lemons, or see if the cakes had come, and then back again to the match.

Josephine and Joyce had made a huge bouquet of tea-roses interspersed with samples of the trees and shrubs and flowers which were to be planted in the "White Cottage" garden. Day girls had been requested to bring samples of cherry trees and gooseberry bushes and such things as were not to be found at York Hill. It was a somewhat curious-looking bouquet, however, for to each spray was attached a little wooden tag bearing the donor's name, and a bit of paper with the accompanying rhyme.

Miss Ashwell looked adorably pretty, they all agreed, when she and Miss Meredith joined them in the latter's garden after the cricket match. The guests were escorted to the wicker chairs under the trees and the girls seated themselves on rugs.

There was a moment's pause. Miss Ashwell confessed afterwards to a feeling of nervousness as to what was going to happen to her, for the day before, without a moment's notice, she had been literally showered with hankies by the little First-Formers. However, Sally May was discovered on her feet about to make a speech. Sally May, usually so glib of tongue, moistened her lips several times, and then, holding out the bouquet, she delivered at breakneck speed the little speech which she had composed—and fortunately memorized—for the occasion.

"Had the fright of my life, my dear," she whispered to Judith afterwards. "I felt like Alice in Wonderland growing taller and taller every moment—expected to be lost in the tree-tops. I'll never, never, never try to make a speech again."

Miss Meredith, who had also been presented with a bunch of lovely roses, leaned forward to examine Miss Ashwell's.

"Yours seems to be an unusually interesting bouquet, my dear," she observed. "May I see one of those butterflies? He seems to be on an apple-tree bough." And unfolding the wings of the butterfly—the butterflies were Five B's idea—she read:

"Your apple tree! how charming!" said Miss Meredith; "who is the fairy godmother who is going to give you such a fascinating tree?" And taking up the little wooden tag she read, "St. Lawrence Apple, Frances Purdy."

"Miss Ashwell must read the next one," said Joyce after Frances's rhyme had been applauded, and she grinned rather wickedly as Miss Ashwell took the green branch held out to her and read the tag:

Miss Ashwell's cheeks were as pink as the lovely rose from whose stalk she hurriedly took the next verse:

Rosamond's effort was the signal for a burst of merriment:

"I wanted to say gooseberry pies," said Rosamond, "but it wouldn't rhyme." And she couldn't understand why their laughter was redoubled.

The crew of the "Jolly Susan" were becoming uneasy. Would Miss Ashwell overlook the bluebells in Five A's bouquet? Nancy held up the flowers for Miss Ashwell to choose, and rather ostentatiously turned the bluebells towards her, but she perversely chose Olivia's pansies. Five o'clock had rung and the maids were crossing the lawn with trays of the inevitable cake and lemonade. The crew felt desperate. Perhaps it was a case of telepathy, for, with her hand hovering over Marjorie's hollyhocks, Miss Ashwell seemed to change her mind and took up instead the bluebells:

"They are to be Canterbury bells really," explained Josephine to Miss Ashwell as the lemonade was being served and the rest of the tags were being passed about so that they might all be read. "We hope you'll plant them in a long row: Canterbury was an awfully hard word to put into a poem, you know."

"It's the nicest verse of all," declared Miss Ashwell. "They'll be lovely in a row. What a garden I'm going to have!"

Nancy and Judith lingered after the party broke up. They made themselves very busy clearing away lemonade glasses and stray chairs just out of earshot of Miss Ashwell and Miss Meredith, who were talking busily. They hoped within themselves that Miss Meredith would depart, and Judith hoped that Nancy would go, and Nancy hoped that Judith would go.

But the five-thirty bell sounded and Nancy reluctantly went off to a music-lesson. Judith gathered up some bits of paper under a peony bush and with a sigh of relief saw Miss Meredith hurry away. Now was her chance. She waylaid Miss Ashwell at the door.

"Oh, Judy, it's been the loveliest party ever," said Miss Ashwell, putting her arm round Judith and giving her a happy little hug; "the nicest party I ever was at. However did you think of it all?"

And be it recorded in Judith's favour that she did not claim credit for the idea.

"We're awfully glad you liked it, for we wanted to give you something that wouldn't let you forget us." How ever was she to tell Miss Ashwell how she was going to miss her next year. "I'm glad to be one of the Canterbury bells, but I wanted a special flower of my own for you, something that would be sweet and rosy and—and—dear, so please don't let any one else give you a climbing rose because I want to give you one that will climb up and knock at your window in the early morning and say—" But she couldn't get any further. She had suddenly realized that in two weeks' time Miss Ashwell would be gone, that she loved her, and hated to think that next year some one else would be in the dear little room at the end of the corridor where she had so often found rest and comfort. A miserable lump swelled in her throat—she couldn't say another word.

"I know," said Miss Ashwell; "the roses will tap at the window and say, 'Get up, lazy person, and come out and weed the garden and clip the roses before breakfast,' or, 'Hurry, hurry, Judith and Nancy and all the rest of them are coming down to-day for lunch, this is a gala day,' or perhaps they'll just be fragrant and lovely and bring sweet remembrances of York Hill and Judith."

"Thank you," said Judith rather hoarsely, but she went away brimful of happiness because she knew that once more Miss Ashwell had understood.