“We always have a huge hedge of sweet-peas in one of the gardens,” said Gerry. “Every year. Each of the patrols has it in turns. It’s the Foxgloves’ turn now, so we’ll catch the scent in our classroom, because the hedge will be just under our window. Won’t that be lovely!” She gave a little skip of delight. Betty had felt inclined to do the same on that first morning. She had never known that school could give such delights, or that a garden could give such a happy feeling. She had never owned a garden before; but now, together with the rest of the Daisies, it certainly seemed that she owned a part of this. “At least, I suppose that only being a mascot,” she inquired eagerly, “doesn’t mean that I don’t count.” “There isn’t any ‘only’ about being a mascot, I’m certain,” Gerry had told her; “though we might ask Sybil. Of course it’s partly your garden too. There’s the Cup, though, of course. I don’t know about _that_,” she added, wrinkling up her forehead as she bent over the bed of pinks. “I say,” she suddenly broke out, “here’s a snail. We don’t want him on the pinks, do we? And I daresay he likes ferns just as much. I’m going to put him over the fence into the wood. Mona squashes them, but I think that’s hateful.” “What were you saying about the Cup?” inquired Betty, eagerly falling to upon a snail search; “I wish you would tell me. One of the other girls said----” [Illustration: There, just inside, stood a small silver cup.] “‘The Cup!’ Well, it’s just the Guide Cup. It belongs to the Daisies this year,” explained Gerry proudly. “You’ll see it. It’s in the Oak Room, and if you had been watching yesterday you might have noticed that our patrol was standing just underneath it when Miss Carey called us all up. On the wall, on a bracket, that’s where the Cup stands,” went on Gerry. “The Daisies lead out first always this year, because we won it. Well, on Midsummer Day Miss Carey will decide again which patrol has been the best; and whichever she decides on will call the Cup theirs, and stand under it in Hall, and file out of Hall first, and take first place.” Gerry stopped. “I should like to see it,” said Betty, with sparkling eyes; “most specially as I’m a Daisy too.” “You can’t till to-night. We don’t go near the Oak Room all day. Unless--” Gerry broke off. “You can see it through the window _now_, if you like. Come along. The Oak Room window looks out this way. Just across here, between the Daisy and the Cowslip gardens on this strip of grass. (We _did_ grow daffs and snowdrops in the grass two years ago, but we couldn’t help stepping on them when we went by, and that was so horrid that we stopped growing them!) Here, you _can_ see!” Betty could see quite plainly. They had arrived under one of the big windows of the Oak Room, and there, just inside, was the little ledge on which stood a small silver cup.