The Camp Fire Girls by the Blue Lagoon. Vandercook Margaret
Ashton shook her head.
"Don't worry, Tante, Aunt Patricia will never leave this country without you."
Mrs. Burton, who had been glancing into the flames which flickered in a small open fire, now looked up.
"Really, Alice and Vera, I am glad you have done what Aunt Patricia wished, although at first I confess I was hurt and angry. If she needs you, you must fill her life as completely as you can. I don't agree with Sally, much as I would like to. Aunt Patricia is singularly unforgiving and must have lost all affection for me. You'll stay to lunch with us. You and Bettina have not had a moment's conversation and she has a great deal to tell you. I'll go and see about things."
After the Camp Fire guardian had disappeared from the room, Bettina Graham slipped into her place beside Sally.
"Do come and sit close to us in a Camp Fire square, if not a Camp Fire circle," Bettina urged. "If you girls only knew how glad I am to see you and how your being here in New York makes me more than ever anxious to do what I have been planning! You know how I always have hated the idea of making my début in society. Well, as the ordeal has drawn nearer, I have found myself hating the possibility more than ever. This summer while we were at our new home, that we call 'The House by the Blue Lagoon,' I at last made up my mind what I really wish to do. I want to devote my life to social work and to begin by studying social settlement work in New York this winter."
Sally Ashton sighed.
"Oh, dear, how did I ever wander into so serious a Camp Fire group? Is there no one of the Sunrise girls who does not wish for a career save me? Of course there are Peggy and Gerry, but they already have chosen matrimony as their careers."
"Do be quiet, Sally. What a perfectly delightful idea, Bettina dear! Why can't you spend the winter with us? We have another small bed-room in our apartment and I am sure Aunt Patricia will be delighted to have you with us," Alice Ashton urged.
Bettina shook her head.
"No such good fortune, Alice! Mother is entirely opposed to my wish and insists upon my following her desire for me. I ran away to New York to try to persuade Tante to use her influence with mother to permit me to do what I like, but I find she takes mother's point of view altogether. We were discussing the subject when you came in and she had just told me she thought it would be selfish and inconsiderate of me to argue the matter any further. So I suppose I must go back to Washington and be a wallflower all winter.
"I forgot to tell you that Elce, our little Lancashire girl, is here with me. She was ill at school and sent to me, as no one seemed able to find anything the matter, save that she was so homesick and miserable. Now something has to be done for her and with her and I am so glad to have the opportunity to ask your advice. I am afraid that to send her to another boarding school would be to have the same thing occur, and yet she must have some education. She cares for nothing save her music and the outdoors and was perfectly well and happy when she was with mother and me last summer."
A moment the three girls remained silent, then Sally answered.
"If you and Tante think it wise and Alice and Vera and Aunt Patricia are willing, why not have Elce come and live with us this winter? I know she would rather be with you, Bettina, but if you are to be introduced into society in Washington, you will scarcely be able to give any time to her. Besides, your mother may not wish to have her. Elce can go to school in New York and I'll look after her otherwise. Perhaps this is not the best thing for her, but it is the only solution I can suggest. She won't be so homesick with us as at boarding school and she will have greater freedom, then I shall like to feel that I am doing something useful."
"Good gracious, Sally, isn't making a home for Alice and me being useful?" Vera remonstrated. "I am sorry if I seemed cross a few moments ago; this was largely because you were in the right and Alice and I did not enjoy our position."
Before any one could reply there was a knock at the door and another girl entered.
"Mrs. Burton says that luncheon is ready if you will be kind enough to come in. I am going to ask you not to stay long afterwards; Mrs. Burton would not mention it I am sure, but she is supposed to lie down every afternoon for a short rest."
As the four Camp Fire girls followed Juliet Temple out of the room, Sally managed to whisper to Bettina:
"What is there about Juliet Temple that is so annoying? That little speech she just made is the kind of thing that makes me especially angry, as if she were far more intimate with Tante and more devoted to her welfare than any of her Camp Fire girls? I suppose she is devoted to her and certainly she makes herself useful and yet I never feel sure of her. In my opinion she represents one of the causes of Aunt Patricia's estrangement."
Bettina shook her head.
"I feel a good deal as you do, Sally, although I am not even so confident of the reason. Sometimes I think you are a better judge of character than any of the rest of us, so if you have an opportunity this winter I wish you would study Juliet Temple and find out what you can. Is she really devoted to Tante, or is she only devoted to her for what she thinks she can gain? Come, we must not keep luncheon waiting and I want you to see Elce. Suppose we talk to her of your proposal."
CHAPTER IV
NATURAL HISTORY
Mrs. Burton's New York apartment was not large.
In her present state of mind Bettina Graham was restless, so, as her mother had consented that she spend the week with her Camp Fire guardian, she devoted many hours each day to being out of doors and to sight seeing.
She was never alone; one of her excuses was that Elce must be amused and not allowed to be troublesome. The little English girl, the daughter of a Lancashire miner, who had been deserted by her father and in a way thrust upon the Camp Fire girls during a brief visit to Ireland, always accompanied her.
Elce was not a trying companion when one wished to pursue one's own train of thought. She talked but little and seemed shy and not particularly clever save for her extraordinary musical gift. Not that she had any gift for the technique of music. One of Bettina's puzzles and disappointments was that so far the younger girl had failed to show any proper interest in the study of music. Her talent seemed spontaneous and natural as a bird's ability to sing and she seemed as little capable of acquiring musical knowledge.
Undoubtedly a problem, Bettina believed that Elce was chiefly her problem. During the summer in "Merrie England," when the little girl had been a maid of all work in their household, she first had become interested in her and in return Elce, whom they then knew by the Lancashire title of "Chitty," had given her a devotion, which she revealed toward no one else. Indeed, the younger girl appeared curiously free from the ordinary affections and to be strangely shy, or self-contained.
It was at Bettina's request that her father had undertaken to pay for the little girl's education. There had been no thought of making her a member of their household, save perhaps during certain holidays.
With Marguerite Arnot the circumstances were different. Marguerite was older and in spite of her difficult background of poverty and hard work2 was possessed of unusual beauty and charm. Then at once Marguerite had responded to her mother's influence. Indeed, Bettina, although recognizing the unreasonableness of her own attitude, frequently had to stifle pangs of something approaching jealousy at the sympathetic relation between them.
Marguerite was no longer shy save in a graceful and attractive fashion. If she played but an inconspicuous part in the social life now surrounding her, she had the French tact and resourcefulness. It seemed to Bettina that, as her own difference of opinion with her mother had grown and developed, Marguerite was beginning to fill her place. In justice she could not criticize Marguerite for circumstances with which she had nothing to do, although not enjoying the idea that her mother was turning to some one else for the sympathy and devotion which should have been her own to give and to receive.
This afternoon, wandering about the Natural History Museum with Elce, Bettina was not particularly intent upon the exhibitions, but instead was planning a letter which she contemplated writing home later in the evening, when Mrs. Burton had gone to the theater and she could
See "Camp Fire Girls in Glorious France."