Friends That Were
Toward noon the next day the half dozen other guests arrived, leaving
only Ralph Merritt to follow later. He was not expected until Christmas
eve, so affording Peggy Webster a few days with her family and friends.
Immediately upon her arrival the Camp Fire girls formed a circle about
her and as soon as possible bore her off to a room in one of the smaller
cabins devoted exclusively to their use.
This room was known as "The Study". Formerly it had been the living-room
in the smaller house, but at present was lined with books and filled
with Camp Fire trophies, baskets, embroidery, sofa cushions, odd pieces
of weaving, and the Camp Fire photographs depicting their various
experiences, which the girls always carried with them.
After the midday dinner the older guests continued to sit about the big
fire in the living-room. David Hale, Dan Webster and Philip Stead were
invited to entertain themselves for a short time without their
hostesses.
It was a little past two o'clock when Sally Ashton, who had been sitting
curled up on a corner of a sofa, not talking so much as her companions,
suddenly remarked:
"Don't you think we might spare Peggy any more questions for this one
afternoon? Whether she will confess to it or not, she is looking tired.
Besides, I feel that we should pay more attention to our other visitors.
I do not mean mother and father, I am thinking of----"
Greeted by an outburst of laughter, Sally appeared mystified.
"No, Sally dear, think not that we expect you to be interested in the
entertainment of mere parents! The other visitors you refer to are
masculine. Well, as they usually are attentive to you, after all there
is no reason why you should not return the compliment."
"Neither is there any reason why you should be so tiresome, Alice. I was
only going to propose that we go for a walk before tea-time. The
afternoon is clear and there always is the possibility of a snow storm
by to-morrow. Perhaps in spite of Alice's sarcasm, father and Captain
Burton may be induced to join us; the others won't, I know."
Peggy Webster, who had been sitting on a pile of Camp Fire sofa
cushions, got up immediately.
"Sally, you always were the most sensible one of us and I should enjoy a
walk. There were so many hours of sitting still on the train. Besides, I
agree with you that we should no longer neglect Dan or Philip Stead or
Mr. Hale. Ralph is not here, but I intend to help defend his sex."
Peggy Webster, who was about nineteen years old, was dark and vivid with
a brilliant color, full crimson lips, black hair and eyes which of late
had grown gentler in their expression. Perhaps the most popular of the
younger group of Sunrise Camp Fire girls, Peggy always had been
singularly sincere and courageous, besides possessing the vitality which
in itself is so magnetic.
To-day, studying Peggy Webster closely, Mary Gilchrist felt a mingled
sensation of admiration and envy. There were certain traits of character
which she and Peggy held in common, and in a way Gill cherished the hope
that she might fill Peggy's place in their Camp Fire now that Peggy was
so soon to marry and leave them. Yet there was also a fundamental
difference between them that Gill knew ever must stand in her way,
unless she were able to conquer it.
"I see no reason for wasting time in teasing Sally. I consider that she
has made an extremely agreeable suggestion," Gill protested.
Half an hour later, Peggy Webster, Bettina Graham, Mary Gilchrist,
Marguerite Arnot, Sally and Alice Ashton and the small English girl,
Chitty, who rarely left Bettina Graham's side when it was possible to be
with her, set out, leaving Vera Lagerloff to entertain Juliet Temple,
the girl who had come to the cabin so unexpectedly, but concerning whose
history and character they had no knowledge.
To Mary Gilchrist's annoyance Allan Drain had joined their three young
men guests, but she need not have troubled. He attached himself to
Bettina and Chitty after a polite greeting to her, as soon as they set
out on their expedition.
In a walk composed of a large group of people, the arrangement in the
beginning is apt to be haphazard, controlled more by chance than choice.
Personally Bettina was glad that Allan Drain seemed interested to walk
beside her, since this left David Hale free to be with Marguerite Arnot.
Otherwise his sense of duty might have impelled him to be attentive to
her. He had come to the cabin at her mother's invitation. Bettina was
convinced that he would find more pleasure in Marguerite's company and
that they would be glad to talk over the past year in France.
The walk was not to be of great length, Mary Gilchrist having proposed
that they go to a low, cleared hill about a mile away on the far side of
Half Moon Lake for their first toboggan ride.
One of Miss Patricia's gifts, sent down from Canada, had been a toboggan
capable of carrying eight persons. But to the Camp Fire girls' chagrin
Mrs. Burton had been unwilling to have them make use of it until they
had a masculine escort. Absurd as her point of view appeared to several
of the more independent members of her group of Camp Fire girls, no one
had appealed from her decision.
This afternoon, moving swiftly ahead on snow shoes, Mary Gilchrist and
Dan Webster dragged the great sleigh, leaving the others to follow as
swiftly as possible. No one of the others had acquired Gill's skill in
the management of snow shoes save Dan Webster who had been brought up on
a New Hampshire farm and was a trained athlete.
"Gill and Dan look very handsome together, don't they?" Alice Ashton
remarked. Tall and intellectual and not especially good looking, Alice
Ashton was far from possessing her younger sister Sally's popularity
with men of all ages. But at present she and Sally were walking with
their distant cousin, Philip Stead, between them and, as Sally was not
making the faintest effort to entertain him, Alice felt compelled to
assume the responsibility.
What was the difficulty with Sally? The suggestion that they go for a
walk had been her own, and yet at present she looked as uncomfortable
and annoyed as Sally ever permitted herself to appear. Undoubtedly she
must be angry or troubled by some recent occurrence. Alice did not
consider that this offered a sufficient excuse for Sally's entire lack
of interest.
The new cousin, Philip Stead, might have been an inanimate object
walking between them.
Sally looked extremely pretty, with more color than usual, due to the
sharp cold. She was wearing Mrs. Burton's old seal-skin coat and cap,
Aunt Patricia having presented the Camp Fire guardian with handsomer
ones at the beginning of the winter in the Adirondacks. And Sally's eyes
and hair were nearly of the same shade and softness as the brown furs.
Notwithstanding, she was frowning and her lips had a pouting, sullen
look like a disappointed child's.
Not appreciating the reason Alice was puzzled and at the same time
grateful that the new cousin did not appear disturbed by Sally's
indifference, but sufficiently interested in her to make the task of
amusing him simpler than she had imagined possible.
Alice was right. Sally was annoyed, she was even unhappy, although she
would scarcely have agreed to this.
During the entire winter at Half Moon Lake had she not been looking
forward almost daily to Dan Webster's visit at Christmas time? Since
their parting in France she and Dan had written each other occasionally,
but neither of them wrote especially well, so that the letters were not
very satisfactory.
Well, Dan had arrived and so far they had exchanged exactly eight words,
the self-same words, save for the interchange of names: "Hello, Sally, I
am glad to see you," and her own reply with no more warmth or
originality.
To herself at any rate she could confess that she had proposed a walk in
order that she and Dan might have a brief time together without half a
dozen or more persons surrounding them. If Dan only had made an effort
to walk beside her they might easily have arranged to drop a few paces
behind the others.
But Dan had made no such effort and apparently had no such thought.
Already he and Mary Gilchrist were speeding on an eighth of a mile
ahead, Mary's golden scarf and Dan's blue one, whipped by the wind, were
like gay pennants urging the stragglers to follow.
But Sally could not walk rapidly on the icy ground and already was out
of breath. Neither had she any interest in the arrival at the summit of
the hill, since the thought of the tobogganing terrified her and she had
no wish to confess the fact.
Reaching the top of the hill, Sally allowed Bettina Graham, her sister
Alice, and Peggy Webster to reveal their Camp Fire prowess by starting a
fire from the oily bark of a white birch tree, while Dan Webster, Philip
Stead and Mary Gilchrist made the original test of the toboggan slide.
Three-quarters of an hour later, still standing beside the now huge
bonfire, Sally never had moved a dozen paces away, and this in spite of
repeated invitation from nearly every one of her companions to make the
journey down the long, smooth path of ice to the edge of Half Moon Lake.
"Thanks, I don't believe I would care for it. Yes, I am a little afraid,
besides I should not like the long walk up the hill when the ride is
over," she had protested politely but with the firmness the other girls
recognized as characteristic.
Dan Webster appeared either to be oblivious to, or else to have
forgotten Sally's accustomed obstinacy. Not once but half a dozen times
he urged her to take part, insisting that he would take care of her and
even bring her back up the hill. Sally continued to shake her head:
"Thanks very much, you are awfully kind, but I had rather not," until
finally even Dan himself desisted.
Besides Sally Ashton there was one other member of the party who would
not be persuaded to attempt the tobogganing--Allan Drain.
Sally had once overheard a conversation between him and Mary Gilchrist,
and afterwards the young man had wandered off leaving her to guard the
fire alone.
"I suppose you are afraid as Sally is," Gill had said, and Sally, not
annoyed in the least by a reference to her cowardice, had thought Gill
never looked handsomer or more vigorous, with her auburn hair blowing
from beneath her gray squirrel cap, her cheeks glowing with health and
her full lips parted.
In contrast her companion had appeared white and frozen, half lifeless,
with all the color gone from his face and his lips blue. Really Gill was
not kind, Sally concluded, observing that Allan Drain had to hold
himself together to keep from shivering.
"I don't like a man who is a coward. Life must be a great bore to anyone
who hates the outdoor world as you do and yet is compelled to be a part
of it. I know you prefer a stuffy little room high up over a city with
your books and your poetry and your dream of yourself," she protested.
With a little light laughter, Gill disappeared and a short time after
Sally observed the young poet start down the hill on the way either to
their cabin or his own.
When he had gone too far to hear her call, Sally regretted that she had
not accompanied him. In spite of the fire she was growing stiff with the
cold. Already the afternoon shadows were turning the white world about
her into softer tones of lilac and gold.
Sorry for her own suggestion, she now longed to be back at Tahawus and
with her mother and father, who surely belonged to her after their long
talk with the others. Nor did she wish any one to accompany her, which
was a part of her mood since ordinarily nothing would have induced her
to walk any distance in the winter woods alone.
Fortunately to-day one had not to be so careful of the trail. Here it
was straight down the hill they had just climbed together.
There was no one near. Allan Drain was almost out of sight, yet his
course would serve as a guide.
The others, crowding the toboggan, were midway down the steep incline.
Placing a fresh pile of wood on the fire and warming herself as
thoroughly as possible, a moment later, without confiding her intention,
Sally set off alone down the snow-covered mountain, carefully keeping in
the tracks made by herself and her friends a short time before.