tical day. I guess it's because the places are so far apart and so
different. The last time 'twas on the big rock back of the Retreat, and
now it's away out here in the Land of our Dreams. Oh, you'll never, never
know what it's meaning to me to have you all out here, because it's one of
the things you feel inside but can never, never tell!"

"I guess we know," cried Priscilla, "because we're feeling it, too! Every
day I think I'll die if I get any happier, but I guess happiness is one of
the things you can keep pouring into your heart like love--without its
overflowing."

"It's the very same way about pouring it out, too," said Mary. "There's
always plenty left like the oil in the Bible story."

"Aren't the mountains way off there blue?" cried Vivian. "I think blue's
the happiest color in the world. I'll never say that I feel _blue_ again
now that I've seen the mountains."

They had climbed to the summit of Spruce Ridge for their Vigilante
meeting--the first formal one they had held since their arrival in
Virginia's country. A letter from Dorothy, coming an hour ago, bore the
inscription, "To be read at a Vigilante meeting," and in order to be
honest to the letter, as well as in spirit, they had decided upon a place
apart and assembled.

"After all, it's better to come away like this, isn't it?" asked Virginia.
"There's a queer, common feeling that doesn't come when we just sit on the
porch and talk. And I love this sweep of country from the Ridge. It's real
Vigilante land. Now let's have the letter, Priscilla. I'm wild to hear it.
It's the very first we've had in a month."

The secretary of the order broke a large amount of sealing-wax, unfolded
sheets of blue stationery, and began:

"'A PIECE OF HEAVEN IN CALIFORNIA,
"'Aug. 11,19--.

"'DEAR FELLOW VIGILANTES:

"'I've been trying desperately to write you for weeks and weeks, but
you've no idea what the cares of a household are, especially when you
have a child around.'"

"A child!" cried all the Vigilantes at once. "What child?"

Priscilla continued:

"'But before I tell you about _Virginia Winthrop Richards_, I must
say that the summer is being even more wonderful than Dad and I ever
dreamed. I never got so well-acquainted with my own father in all my
life, and he's been a perfect darling to devote days and days to me.
The bungalow is more heavenly