Laughing and singing, her mates rolled the throne down to the edge of the platform, and there, still sitting in her pretty, flowing white robes, Mercy gave them the valedictory oration.  It was Ruth’s idea, filched from the transformation scene in her moving picture scenario.

Afterward the other girls had their turns.  Ruth’s own paper upon “The Force of Character” and Jennie’s funny “History of a Bunch of Briers” received the most applause.

Mrs. Tellingham came last.  As was her custom she spoke briefly of the work of the past year and her hopes for the next one; but mainly she lingered upon the story of the rebuilding of the West Dormitory and the loyalty the girls had shown in making the new building a possibility.

There was a debt upon it yet; but the royalties from the picture play were coming in most satisfactorily.  The preceptress urged all her guests to do what they could to advertise the film of “The Heart of a Schoolgirl” in their home towns, and especially urged them to see it.

“You will be well repaid.  Not alone because it is a true picture of our boarding school life, but because the writer of the scenario has produced a good and helpful story, and Mr. Hammond has put it on the screen with taste and judgment.”

These were Mrs. Tellingham’s words, and they made Ruth Fielding very proud.

The diplomas were given out after a touching address by the local clergyman.  The girls received the parchments with happy hearts.  Their faces shone and their eyes were bright.

The graduating class held a sort of reception on the platform; but after a time Helen urged Ruth away from the crowd.  “Come on!” she said.  “Let’s go up into the new-old-room.  We’ll not have many chances of being in it now.”

“That’s right.  Only to-night,” sighed Ruth.  “Away to-morrow for the Red Mill.  And next week we start for Dixie.  I wonder if we shall have a good time, Helen.  Do you think we ought to have promised Nettie and her aunt that we would come?”

“Surely!  Why, we’ll have a dandy time,” declared Helen, “just us girls alone.”

This belief proved true in the end, as may be learned in the next volume of this series, to be entitled “Ruth Fielding Down in Dixie; Or, Great Days in the Land of Cotton.”

“I didn’t see your father or Tom or Mrs. Murchiston,” Ruth said, as she and Helen walked across the campus.

“They are here, just the same,” said Helen, laughing.

“Where?”

“I shouldn’t be surprised if we found them up in our old quartette.  Ann is with her Uncle Bill Hicks, and Mercy is with her father and mother.  We shall have the room to ourselves.  We’ll get out my new tea set and give them tea.  Come on!”

Helen raced up the stairs, opened the door of the big room, and then got behind it so that Ruth, coming hurriedly in, should first see the little, quivering, eager figure which had risen out of the low chair by the window.