But alas for the hopes of prepdom! No team had ever beaten this Senior Collegiate team on its way through Greycliff, and history was repeated when the last games took place a week later. To the joy of the Academy classes, however, the game between “Junior A” and “Senior C” was a close one. Both teams were in fine training and exhibited a spirit of fair play; but the upper class bore off the honors. “I surely would have been mortified if those Preps had beaten us, and, honestly, once I was almost afraid of it!” Thus spoke the exhausted but victorious captain, who lay stretched on the floor to recover after the game. One girl was being rubbed with camphor, another was applying arnica to a big bump and a third was having a sprain investigated, while Miss Randolph, with contracted brow, came over to join the gymnasium teacher and see what were the injuries of her athletes. To a few of her teachers Miss Randolph relieved her feelings as they all walked back to Greycliff Hall, picking their way carefully over the ice and snow that had formed or fallen too rapidly for removal from the walks. “I do not and never shall approve of these competitive games before the whole school! Practice games are well enough, but the girls get so excited that they will ‘do or die,’ as one of their ridiculous songs says!” Miss Randolph’s laugh almost belied the severity of her remarks. “‘Vitamque volunt pro laude pacisci,’” quoted the classic Dr. Carver, whose blood seldom warmed over athletics of any sort. “That is their spirit,” assented Miss Randolph. “I’m always afraid of some calamity, but so far we have escaped. I feel responsible for the girls. However, none of them are allowed to go into anything without the consent of their parents.” “Not much can happen in basketball, can there?” “No, but I am always afraid of the bruises and strains and sometimes they fall so hard and strike their heads. Perhaps the athletic craze is more wholesome than some others, but we endure and are thankful when every tournament is past. And, indeed it seems to me, if school or college life is to foster any refinement of speech or manner in our girls, something will have to be done about these performances.” As it happened, fate was kind to Miss Randolph and her old-school ideas. To the great disappointment of both schools, the Highlanders had an epidemic of measles, “measly things”, as Isabel said, and arrangements for the competitive games were completely broken off. But to relieve the general feeling of disappointment they were promised some kind of an affair together, when all danger of infection was past. It might be a picnic, a masquerade, nobody knew just what. “And _next_ year, girls,” said Eloise, impressively, “we can go with the Collegiates over to see the athletic carnival at the military school?” “How do you know, Elo’?” asked Cathalina.