CHAPTER XXI.
THE LOST LETTER Spring was well advanced, full of soft airs and the sweet scents of orchards in full bloom.
Through the open windows of the schoolroom Grace could hear the pleasant sounds of the out of doors.

The tinkle of a cow bell in a distant meadow and the songs of the birds brought to her the nearness of the glorious summer time.
She chewed the end of her pencil impatiently, endeavoring to withdraw her attention from the things she liked so much better than Latin grammar and algebra.

Examinations were coming, those bugbears of the young freshman, and then vacation.

A vision of picnics crossed her mind, of long days spent out of doors, with luncheon under the trees and tramps through the woods.

Yet, before all these joys, must come the inevitable final test, the race for the freshman prize.