It was a notable fight. When the day of election arrived, the Chemistry room in which the Iolanthians were gathered was electric with restrained excitement. On the first ballot Raymond and Beulah stood even. There was a second ballot--a third--a fourth. And still the deadlock, the atmosphere of tensity growing more vibrant every second. Finally a group of boys put their heads together. Then Raymond Bonner arose. “In view of the deadlock which it seems impossible to break,” he began, in the rather stilted manner which befits such assemblages, “I propose that we put up a substitute candidate. I propose the name of Miss Melissa Merriam.” Oh, dear heaven! For a second Missy was afraid she was going to cry--she didn't know why. But she caught Raymond's eye on her, smiling encouragement, and she mistily glowed back at him. And on the very first vote she was elected. Yes. Miss Melissa Merriam was president of Iolanthe. She was prominent. And Raymond? Of course Raymond had been prominent before, though she had never noticed it, and now he had helped her up to this noble elevation! He must think she would adorn it. Adorn!--it was a lovely word that Missy had just captured. Though she had achieved her eminence by a fluke. Missy took fortune at the flood like one born for success. She mazed the whole school world by a meteoric display of unsuspected capacities. Herself she amazed most of all; she felt as if she were making the acquaintance of a stranger, an increasingly fascinating kind of stranger. How wonderful to find herself perusing over a “meeting” from the teacher's desk in the Latin room, or over a “programme” in the auditorium, with calm and superior dignity! Missy, aflame with a new fire, was not content with the old hackneyed variety of “programme.” It was she who conceived the idea of giving the first minstrel show ever presented upon the auditorium boards. It is a tribute to Missy's persuasiveness when at white heat that the faculty permitted the show to go beyond its first rehearsal. The rehearsals Missy personally conducted, with Raymond aiding as her first lieutenant-and he would not have played second fiddle like that to another girl in the class-he said so. She herself chose the cast, contrived the “scenery”; and she and Raymond together wrote the dialogue and lyrics. It was wonderful how they could do things together! Missy felt she never could get into such a glow and find such lovely rhymes popping right up in her mind if she were working alone. And Raymond said the same. It was very strange. It was as if a mystic bond fired them both with new talents-Missy looked on mixed metaphors as objectionable only to Professor Sutton. Her reputation-and Raymond's-soared, soared. Her literary talent placed her on a much higher plane than if she were merely “smart”--made her in the most perfect sense “prominent.”