“Outside, in life, there is so much hurry-scurry nowadays. You, who are one with the outside life, and must take your share in it later, are spending certain years here to fit you for your life outside. And these years should be for you later on, I like to think, a treasure which, in the storm and stress that life must bring to each of us, no one can take from you. Quiet memories will be yours of a time when--helped perhaps more than you realize now by the atmosphere and influence of this house itself--you, each one, laid up a store of strength for later days. “And because, here at St. Benedick’s, we ‘study to be quiet,’ you will not be the less fitted, I think, when you leave for the world outside, if you go out remembering that in quietness and in confidence is your greatest strength. No, all I have to say to you at the opening of this term can be summed up again, I think, in our motto: _Festina lente_ (Hasten slowly); for nothing in life is worth having that can be gained by snatching. Our motto means much, and it may grow to mean more and more through life to each one of you if you will remember it. Hasten slowly; and ‘Patience, then, will have her perfect work.’” CHAPTER IV IN THE BIG OAK HALL “Attention! Patrols, form lines! Right turn! Lead out!” Suddenly, at the close of the little speech, the orders had come. Just as Betty was wondering why it was that Miss Carey’s words--even although she could understand very little of their meaning--had yet left a queer restful sort of feeling in her excited mind, the headmistress had paused, her tone had changed, and the orders had been uttered in quiet but clear and decisive tones. And in response every girl in the room had drawn herself up. Then, in amazement, Betty had watched as four of the prefects had stood out from the rest, and as the other girls, each evidently understanding the meaning of the orders, had quietly taken a place in one of the four lines. Betty, following Geraldine’s movements with her eyes, had noticed that her late companion now stood quietly at the end of a row of juniors which seemed to be under the charge of Sybil, the head girl. Six other juniors stood there with her, one of whom Betty recognized as Mona, though the rest were as yet unknown. While she was wondering whether she, too, had a place in the ranks, the second order had come from the lips of the headmistress, and quietly, in orderly fashion, the four prefects had led their patrols from the room. On the floor of the big Oak Hall Betty found herself alone; but as she turned, wondering whether to follow the rest, the new girl found the headmistress at her side. “You are Betty Carlyle, my dear?” [Illustration: “You are Betty Carlyle, my dear?”] It was quite impossible to be afraid of Miss Carey. Betty suddenly thought, as she looked up and met the kind look in the headmistress’s eyes, of deep pools of blue water--deep, very deep.