important! How I wish I knew what it's all about!"

"Why, Cassy, I wouldn't know if I could. I'd scorn to care."

"So would I scorn to care," replied Cassy, quickly. "O, of course!
It's of no account, you might know."

"What vexes me, Cassy, is the way they look down on us girls, and boast that they can keep secrets and we can't, when it's no such a thing, Cassy Hallock, as you and I very well know—we that have kept secrets for years and years, and never, never told, and never will to our dying days!"

Cassy nodded her head emphatically, implying that words could not do justice to the subject.

"Cassy, dear, you asked me, a little while ago, what I was thinking about; and now I'll tell you. I've been wondering if we mightn't get up a secret society our own selves!"

Cassy stopped short, laughed, and said, "Capital!" forgetting that not five minutes before she had expressed contempt for such "goings on." "How many girls will we have, Gracie?"

"Why, our graduating class, that's seven. We don't go much with the other girls, you know. I'm so glad you like the idea, Cassy! and, now you do, I'm going to have it. I've just made up my mind!"

"But suppose the others don't approve?"

"O, pshaw, Cassy! that's of no sort of consequence! What you and I think they'll think—all but Isa Harrington, and we'll soon manage her."

"Well," replied Cassy, drawing a long breath, "don't let's walk quite so fast, Gracie, we'll be at the schoolhouse before we know it, and you and I must have everything arranged between us. What name, Gracie?"

"What think of calling ourselves Princesses of the— the— some kind of a seal? The seal must be golden, or diamond, or something else that's precious."

"The Ruby Seal," suggested Cassy.

"O, that's it, dear! Our lips are the ruby seal, Cassy, and never, never will they open to utter the secrets of our order. We'll promise to love, honor and protect one another as long as we all shall live. Our motto will be, "Vera ad finem." I suppose you don't know what that means, Cissy; but it's "true to the end," Robin says."

"I've only one thing to say," interrupted Cassy; "this mustn't make any difference between you and me, Gracie; we'll be good friends enough with the others, but—"

"Yes, Cassy, good friends enough; but it's you and I that are the dear friends. We'll be "vera" —that's true —to the others, but never the least speck intimate. But hush! Here we are at the schoolhouse. Don't you breathe a word, you know, Cassy! We'll take our seats just as sober as if nothing had happened!"

CHAPTER II

THE RUBY SEAL.

The graduating class of the Girls' Grammar School comprised seven young misses, of whom Grace Clifford was the youngest, though by no means the most timid and retiring. They all met on Saturday afternoon at Mrs. Hallock's to talk over the new project.

The vote was unanimous in favor of the Ruby Seal. Isabel Harrington opposed it for a while, it is true; but this may possibly have been because she was not the very first one consulted.

"Now," said Grace, when she saw that, as usual, Cassy expected her to manage affairs, "here I sit with pencil and paper; and now we'll pass resolutions, if you please. I'm secretary."

"First place," said Isabel Harrington, with a toss of the head, "I'd like to ask what's the good of a society, any way?"

"What's the good?" repeated Grace; "ahem! it's to— to— make us better, of course."

"Then mightn't we pass one resolution to read the Bible?" asked gentle
Mahla Linck, the lame girl, whom everybody loved.

"Yes, we will, we will!" cried every voice.

"It's a vote," said Grace, writing down: "We hereby solemnly pledge ourselves to read two chapters in the Bible daily."

"And say our prayers," suggested Mahla again.

"O, that's all understood," replied Grace. "I'd be ashamed to put that down. It looks like we could ever forget our prayers!"

"Now," said Judith Pitcher, "I move we forbid the use of all unladylike words."

This vote was passed.

The next was against falsehoods of every hue, from little white lies up to the big black ones.

"We mustn't talk about 'oceans of tears,' and 'biting our tongues out,' I suppose," said Isabel, demurely, but with a sly glance at the secretary.

"That means me," said Grace, blushing. "And now," continued she, pausing and looking at Cassy, who would not speak for her, "—now let's all agree never— never to be married. If that be your minds, please to manifest it."

The girls looked astonished.

"I've been reading Mythology," pursued Grace, "and some of the nicest goddesses and nymphs didn't marry — Diana, and Minerva, and Clytie, and Sappho."

"We're not goddesses and nymphs, I hope," said Diademia Jones, shaking her head.

"Nor heathens," added Isa, with spirit.

"O, no; but if ladies want to be very great, and do oceans of good, and write poems and everything, why, they mustn't be married. You see how it is, girls; there's so much housekeeping and sewing to attend to."

"But, then," added Lucy Lane, mournfully, "if we're not married, we'll be—old maids!"

"O, no, indeed," said Grace, positively. "Why, if you're great and splendid, you never will—no such a thing! Maria Edgeworth was splendid, and she never was an old maid that ever I heard of. And there was—"

"Grace Greenwood," suggested Cassy, in the tone of one who has added the finishing stroke to an argument.

But the girls exclaimed,—"Why, Grace Greenwood is married; what are you talking about? There, there, people can be married, and be splendid, too."

Grace felt that her cause had received a blow.

"Now, girls," said she, after a pause, "I'll tell you how it is. Grace Greenwood was married a long while ago. If she was a little girl now, and saw such acting boys, she'd say, 'It's an awful thing!' Why, girls, I think, for my part," Grace went on with much dignity, "we lower ourselves, we degrade ourselves, when we associate with boys. They smoke, and chew, and use very improper language. It does seem to me we're white lilies, and they're nothing but—but thistles. Let's faithfully promise not to converse with boys, —unless it's to try and reform them, you know."

"Our brothers," urged soft-voiced Lucy Lane, timidly.

"Yes, our brothers," murmured the other girls.

"And our cousins, you know," added dashing Diademia Jones.

No one was quite so enthusiastic over this non-marrying resolve as Grace had expected; still, the vote was passed with much solemnity, the girls resigning themselves to the prospect of single lives like a little band of heroines. They were now certain of becoming distinguished, and might be doctors, judges, or ministers, just as they liked, though, as Grace very justly remarked, they need be in no haste about choosing professions.

It was decided that Grace should be queen of the Ruby Seal Society. The girls bound themselves to one another by solemn pledges, and if any member should, by word or deed, do anything to the injury of a princess, the offender was to be expelled at once. The name, and even the existence, of the society must be kept a profound secret. They agreed that a