She found studying during those last few weeks the most difficult thing in the world; and had it not been for the cup competition between Hathaway and The Hermitage, which was daily growing more close, she, like many of the others, would have been sorely tempted to take a vacation. It would be so much more “vital,” she said to herself, and ten times more appropriate, to close her geometry and walk through the woods with Priscilla, or sit in Mary’s room, and plan for the wonderful days to come; for Mrs. Williams had “found a way,” and Jack and Mary were actually to spend the month of August in Wyoming with Virginia and Donald. The trip was to be their Commencement gift, for Jack was likewise graduating that year from the Stanford School. “It’s too good to be true,” Virginia kept saying to herself, “it’s too good to be true,” and deep in her heart she hoped and hoped that Mr. and Mrs. Winthrop might consent to Priscilla’s going also. They had said they would “think about it,” and that, so Priscilla said, was a hopeful sign. As she bent over her geometry, preparing for the final examination, there would come before her eyes in place of circles and triangles and parallelograms, visions of sunny August days riding over the foothills, and starlit August nights about a camp-fire in the canyon. It would be such fun for her and Don to show Mary and Jack all the loveliest places in their country. And she would teach Mary to shoot—Mary, who had never in her life held a rifle! Oh, if only the other Vigilantes might come! But she knew that Dorothy was to be in California with her father; and as to Vivian, Virginia could somehow easily picture the horror on timid Mrs. Winter’s face at the thought of Vivian shooting and camping in a canyon! But this was not mastering geometry, and there was the cup! The Hermitage must win it from Hathaway, and the winning or the losing depended upon the success or failure of each one. So, banishing dreams, she went to work again. There were but ten days more. Already it was examination week; already many of the traditional ceremonies and closing occasions had taken place. The Juniors had “picnicked” the Seniors, and the Seniors the Juniors; the cottage tennis finals had been played off, Overlook winning the doubles, and Bess Shepard being proclaimed the champion in the ensuing singles; the Senior ivy had been planted against the wall of the Retreat, and the old trowel presented with fitting remarks to the Junior president. By the cottages the Senior occupants had each planted her own slip of ivy, her name placed in a securely corked bottle, and buried beneath the roots of her plant. Thus in our own minds do we become immortal!