She read her father’s letter over and over again. It was filled with pride, for he, too, had received a letter from Miss King, and—what was stranger yet!—actually one from Grandmother Webster, telling of their pleasure in Virginia. He was glad every day that she was so happy at St. Helen’s. Were she often homesick, he would be troubled; but her happiness made his loneliness the less. The fall threshing was over, he said, and the round-up and branding completed. The men were having a much-needed rest. William had not gone to town once since she left, and if he continued in his determination, she would not know him when she came home. Jim, he was sorry to tell her, seemed far from well. The Keiths were also finished with the hardest of the fall labor; and they had all decided to ride up the canyon the next Saturday “To-day,” thought Virginia—and camp for over Sunday, just for a change. How they wished she and Don were there to go along! Virginia folded the letter and jumped to her feet. An idea had seized her, dispelling the few remaining blues, for to a nature like her own a new idea is often a cure-all. Why had she not thought of it before? She would ride to-day, just as they were doing at home. Not yet had she used her new saddle, but really there had been little opportunity. The days had been too filled with lessons and getting acquainted to allow much time for riding; and they had now become so short that it was impossible after supper. The first two Saturdays had been taken up—one by a tennis tournament, the other by the Senior and Junior basket-ball game—and this was only the third. But to-day she would ride. She would hurry home, learn her lessons—yes, she even thought she might learn her Latin—and then after luncheon have the man from the village stable bring up the horse he had recommended at a previous interview. The atmosphere at luncheon was less chilled. Mary, Anne, and Vivian brought from the village the glad tidings that the “Forget-me-not” would be open all winter, and serve hot chocolate and cakes instead of sundaes; Priscilla and Lucile had won four sets from the Blackmore twins; and Virginia’s spirits were certainly improved. Only Imogene and Dorothy, who had been together all the morning, preserved, the one a haughty, the other an embarrassed, silence. Virginia’s announcement that she was to ride brought forth great interest on the part of the girls, and solicitude on the part of Miss Green. “You have permission, I presume, Virginia?” “Oh, certainly, Miss Green. I’ve talked with Miss King all about it,” answered Virginia, striving to be polite. Later, when she heard Miss Green supplementing over the telephone her own directions to the stable-man, and cautioning him to bring the safest horse in the stable, she tried not to mind.