Self-government of the Vassar girls develops self-respect and self-control. A Vassar girl is bound on her honor to retire every night at ten o'clock, with three exceptions a month, to exercise in the gymnasium three hours a week, and to take at least one hour of outdoor exercise daily. Regular exercise, regular meals, nine hours of sleep, and plenty of mental work were rapidly preparing Gertrude to fill some noble position in the world.
At Vassar other sources of mental rest and physical strength are, tennis-court tournaments, basket ball, rowing and skating on the lake, bicycling, or five-mile tramps, studying birds, photographing scenery, or gathering wild flowers. The Vassar girl is also enthusiastic over the "Tree and Trig Ceremonies" and amateur dramatic entertainments.
Gertrude closed her second and last year at Vassar with regret. The farewell "fudge" party was for Gertrude, and given in her own room by a score of her warm personal friends. The rule for "fudge-making" is, two cups of sugar, milk, two rolls of butter melted with chocolate in a copper kettle over a gas stove. The fused compound is poured into paper plates and cut into tiny squares. So eager is the Vassar girl for "fudge" that the struggle is earnest for the first taste, and for the cleaning of the big spoon and kettle. The Vassar girl has a sweet tooth, and "fudge" parties always evolve love stories and fun in abundance.
After a pleasant vacation in the Adirondacks with friends, Gertrude resolved to complete her education at Smith College on the lovely Connecticut River, which winds through western Massachusetts. To educate a whole family of boys and girls at the "dear old alma mater" is now an exploded fancy. A better plan is to educate the half dozen brothers and sisters at a half dozen good colleges. What faculty of educators can lay claim to all the best methods of evolving characters?
The industry and economy of James Ingram had enabled him to send his son George for two years to the Polytechnic Institute at Troy. Suddenly financial troubles made it impossible for him longer to assist his son. Mrs. Harris, very likely by Gertrude's suggestion, offered to provide funds for the third and last year at the institute, and George was delighted to complete his course.
By invitation, George had spent the last days of his vacation with Gertrude in the Adirondacks, and he had accompanied Mrs. Harris and her daughters back to Albany, while the mother continued the journey leaving Gertrude at Smith College, Northampton, and Lucille at Boston. Mrs. Harris was justly proud of her girls. Their figure and dress often caused people to stop in their conversation or reading, as mother and daughters entered a car or a hotel.
George Ingram returned to the institute with high hopes. A few of his plans were revealed to Gertrude on the last night of his vacation. He told her some things he never dared mention before to any one. They were on Saranac Lake and the moon seemed to change the water to silver. Their birch canoe drifted along the shore and George, dropping his oars, reversed his seat and faced the girl he loved as he told her much of his plan for life. Gertrude dipped her oars lightly in the water, George guiding the canoe beneath the forest overhanging the pebbly shore.
Thus far his education had been a struggle. Time which his mates employed in recreation he had used in the steel mill. Thus he gained a trade and a knowledge of the value of time. Early he had learned that knowledge is power and that intellect and wealth rule the world. He told Gertrude that she had kindled within him the spark of ambition, and that he proposed to make life a success. "Gertrude, you must be my friend in this struggle," he added.
"Yes, George, always your friend," she replied.
He felt that Gertrude meant all she said. Long ago her sincerity had captured his heart. Her sympathy, her unselfishness, and her words of helpfulness had been the light by which he was shaping his course.