“You could see it better--you could even touch it,” said her guide proudly, “if the window were open. But all the same----” All the same Betty feasted her eyes on it as they stood there in joy and pride. The Cup was the possession of her patrol, she thought--until Midsummer Day at least! That had happened on the first morning after her arrival; but a whole week of term had passed by since then--a week which had really seemed as full as a year. On the evening of that first day the new girl had found herself called into the headmistress’s room again to answer Miss Carey’s promised inquiry whether Betty was shaking down happily into “school ways.” There had been no doubt, from the look in the child’s eyes, what her answer would be, even before she had stammered out the words,-- “Oh, _yes_. I never guessed----” No, Betty had never guessed the evening before that next day she would stand gazing round the Daisy garden feeling like this. As she stood on the same spot a week later, she felt as happy, or perhaps happier than before. Lessons? They were hard, perhaps; but then everybody was patient and understanding. Miss Drury and Miss Stewart, Miss Lee and Mademoiselle--they all seemed to know when she was trying, and to be quite satisfied with that. But when classes were over life was like a dream; there was only one “only” at St. Benedick’s, only one thorn in Betty’s bed of roses--the absence of the twins and baby; of anybody, in fact, who needed her in the same way that she had been always needed at home! Betty still felt a little choky at times, therefore, not to have Jan’s bed pulled close to her own; not to have to play “Little Mother” all day long. If there had been any “mothering” of any kind to do at St. Benedick’s, then school would have been to her a perfect place. But except for Gerry, who had begun by protecting Betty herself, and who certainly did not intend to be “mothered,” Betty was the youngest girl of all. Mona and Rene were each a few months older, and proportionately proud of the fact; and the Mascot found herself in much the same position at St. Benedick’s as that occupied at home by Jan, the twin. She was smiled at by the seniors, and petted a little. And though to be “treated like a little one” was just what she needed, and lovely, too, in a way, yet Betty wanted to pet some one herself! If it hadn’t been for the garden her heart would have had an empty place in it which nothing else at St. Benedick’s quite knew how to fill. But the Daisy garden was hers--partly, at least. Sybil had told her so. At the first Guide meeting the patrol leader--very quiet and business-like, and altogether unlike the affectionate laughing girl who had sat on shy Betty’s bed and hugged her--had presided over her patrol, and had explained, after going into details, none of which the Mascot understood, what Betty’s work would be.