Out of breath, she sat down by the roadside to rest for a few minutes. No, she could never forget Imogene’s words! She saw her dressed ready to go, remembered how she had risen to kiss her, and how, instead of kissing her, Imogene had said, “Of course, you realize, Vivian, if you hadn’t been such a little fool, and Dorothy such a coward, I wouldn’t be going away like this!” So they had really sent Imogene away—_expelled_ her! And Imogene had said that she was to blame, had gone without kissing her, had never written her in all that long week! No, it was all too much to be borne! Besides, it did not matter how good the girls had been to her since the evening when Virginia had rescued her from the carrying out of her foolish plan, she felt sure that in their hearts they despised her for having been so weak and so easily influenced. And now she could never show them that she meant to be different! Even Virginia and Priscilla whom she so dearly loved would never know! But she saw no other way. Rising, she hurried on. The school clock struck three. She dashed through the gates and into the woods by the Retreat. In a few minutes the girls would be passing along the road, and she was in danger of being seen. Looking around for a hiding-place, she espied the big rock back of the Retreat, the very rock which the Vigilantes had chosen for their initiation ceremonies. A great pine which grew close by overhung it with wide-spreading, feathery branches. Vivian hastily climbed upon the rock, and, crawling in among the pine branches, was quite concealed from the sight of all except the most careful observer. It was but a few moments before she heard voices—on the meadow, in the road, even in the very woods about her. Study hour was over, and the girls were free. Well, if by any chance they drew near her place of concealment, she could take her Caesar from her pocket and begin to study. That would tend to dispel suspicion. How jolly and merry they sounded! She could hear Bess Shepard’s laugh, and some lusty shouts, which, of course, came from the Blackmore twins. She had had lovely times at St. Helen’s. Of course even now, she might—but no, it was too late! Without doubt, by now some one had discovered her room, and everybody would know! A loud crackling of twigs sounded to the right. Some one was coming in her direction—yes, some one in a red sweater, for she could distinguish that color through the thicket. She crouched lower under the pine branches. Then, seeing that it was of no use to hide, for the sweater was unmistakably coming through the bushes, she sat up-right with a beating heart and drew Caesar from her pocket—just as Dorothy broke through the last blackberry bush and saw her on the rock. And though she tried her utmost to gaze at Caesar, she just couldn’t help seeing the joy and gladness that swept over Dorothy’s anxious face.