To be thus chosen out and selected by her idol was a most happy ending to the term, and offered golden opportunities in the coming September. It meant more to her even than her prize. She went at once to tell the good news to her sister. "I don't like to cackle too loudly, because of Muriel and Nesta," said Mavis. "But I am proud of you! It's been worth the grind, hasn't it?" "Rather! Though I'm yearning for the holidays. Shall we go to Chagmouth on Saturday?" "Oh, yes! Bevis breaks up to-morrow, and I expect he'll be at Grimbal's Farm by then. It's his last term at school as well as mine. I wonder how he feels about leaving? I promised, too, to call and see the Castletons." When the girls reached home, there was a letter on the table for Mavis in Clive's handwriting. They heard from the boy every now and then, though he was not a particularly good correspondent. This epistle, which had apparently been penned on Sunday, was mostly a summary of cricket and anticipations of his holidays. It ended: Your affec'ate coz, CLIVE. _P.S._--Meant to send you this snap before. Isn't it priceless? The sting of a scorpion is in its tail. Mavis stooped down and picked up the little photo which had fallen from the envelope on to the floor. Clive had used his Brownie camera at Chagmouth and had promised to post them the results, but had forgotten. This solitary print represented Bevis--there was no mistaking Bevis--but Mavis bent over it with puzzled eyes, for clasped tightly in his arms with her head laid upon his shoulder was a girl. Merle, who snatched the photo away to look at it, decided her identity at once. "Why, it's Romola! That's the artistic blue dress that Violet made for her!" "So it is! Where's her plait, though?" "Hidden behind her, I suppose. I say! They're coming it rather strong, aren't they?" "Yes. I shouldn't have thought that of Bevis!" "No more should I!" (Merle was looking annoyed.) "I'd no idea he could be so silly. I shall rag him about this, you bet!" "I wouldn't!" (Mavis's voice was very quiet.) "Romola is so pretty! Perhaps he _likes_ her!" "Well, it's the first I've seen of it. He's a sly-boots if he does. Somehow it doesn't seem to fit in with Bevis. I'm cross with him. When did Clive take this amazing snap? I wonder he didn't send it on to us before. I think it's not worth keeping, if you ask me!" and Merle, tearing the photo into bits, tossed it into the waste-paper basket. "Bevis is _our_ friend--not the Castletons'!" she added, stumping away most decidedly cross, "and if he's going in for rubbish like this with Romola, he shan't call _me_ Soeurette again! He needn't think it. I'll _not_ be a sister to Romola! I declare I won't! The sneak!" But these latter sentiments were muttered to herself, and she took good care that Mavis should not overhear them.