A great many things happened in the space that intervened between the first of May and the eighteenth of June, when graduation occurred. There were dances at Exmoor and dances at Wellington and the senior reception to the juniors. Then there were long quiet evenings when the old crowd gathered in No. 5 and talked of the future. It was on one of these warm summer nights that they were draped as usual about the couches in the mellow glimmer of one Japanese lantern. Judy, thrumming on the guitar, sang: "'When all the world is young, lad, And all the trees are green; And every goose a swan, lad, And every lass a queen; Then hey for boot and horse, lad, And round the world away; Young blood must have its course, lad, And every dog his day. "'When all the world is old, lad, And all the trees are brown; And all the sport is stale, lad, And all the wheels run down; Creep home and take your place there, The spent and maimed among: God grant you find one face there, You loved when all was young.'" "My, that makes me sad," said Jessie. "I feel that I've already lived my life and am coming back to old Wellington to die with a lot of other decrepit old persons who used to be young and beautiful." "Thanks for the compliment about looks," said Edith. "But I don't feel that way. I'm going forth to conquer. I am going to write books and books before I come home to die." "I'm going to write books, too," announced Molly meekly, "but I feel that I'm not ready to begin yet----" "You can't begin too young," interrupted Edith. "I know, but I'm coming back for a post grad. course in"--Molly hesitated, she hardly knew why--"in English and--and a few other things. I've got no style----" "What, are you really coming back?" they cried. "Nance and I have decided to return," replied Molly. "We are not ready to join the ranks yet, are we, Nance? Dear Nance is going to polish up her French literature. I'll be busy enough. I expect to do a lot of tutoring and other profitable work." "What shall I do?" groaned Judy. "I don't want to study any more, and, yet, how can I bear for you two to be at Wellington without me to bother you." Molly looked at her and smiled. "Remember, you are to come home with me this summer, Judy, and maybe you'll like Kentucky so well you'll want to stay there." Molly was well aware that her brother Kent had fallen in love with Judy at first sight, and it didn't occur to her that anybody could resist the charms of her favorite brother. "Margaret, why don't you come back?" asked Nance. "Not me," answered Margaret. "I hear the voice of suffrage calling!" "We all of us hear voices calling," broke in Katherine. "And each is a different voice according to our natures. Now Margaret's voice is soprano, but Jessie hears a deep baritone----" "Nothing of the sort," cried Jessie. "'Fess up, now, Jessie, when is it to be?"