Sunrise Cabin
It was Christmas once more at the Camp Fire cabin and a wonderful white
night. Everywhere there was snow and enchantment under the "Long-night
Moon."
Dinner was over, for from the inside of the great living room came the
sound of music and dancing and many gay voices.
Built like a magic circle about the log house were seven camp fires,
uncurling their long fingers of flame into the frost-laden air. And now
and then fire-makers came out of the cabin, usually in pairs, to pile
more logs and pine branches where the need was greatest.
First Eleanor Meade and Frank Wharton, and Eleanor looked tall and
picturesque in her Indian costume with a white shawl over her shoulders.
But when they had finished with their fire building they walked on a few
yards and then lingered for a moment close to the tall Totem pole,
which still stood like a faithful sentinel outside the Sunrise Cabin
door, its colors bright with the history of the Camp Fire club it had
been chosen to tell.
"I thought I was going to be a great artist when I painted that pole and
the walls of our cabin, Frank," Eleanor whispered. "But the paths of a
woman's glory sometimes lead----"
"To the altar," Frank returned. "Never mind, dear, there is no place
where one so needs to keep the white lights burning." And a little later
he and his companion disappeared along the path that led to the grove of
pines closer to the foot of the mountain.
For nearly ten minutes no one else opened the cabin door; then two
muffled figures stole out and industriously piled wood on half a dozen
of the dying fires. Out of breath they afterwards paused and began
talking to each other. They were the two girls in the Camp Fire club at
Sunrise Hill who were now the closest friends.
"I am awfully glad to hear of your new position, Nan. Are you going to
make more money?" Sylvia Wharton asked with her old-time bluntness.
And as Nan Graham nodded, she went on, "I want everybody in our club to
understand that no matter what any one of us accomplishes, you are the
best of the lot. Because the rest of us have had money and aid from
other persons, but you have done every blessed thing for yourself and
have helped other people besides."
"Yes, but I don't have to help now," Nan explained. "Anthony is able to
do everything for the family that is necessary beyond what father earns.
And he has made me promise to go to college next year and study all the
courses in domestic science that I can manage, besides chemistry and
physiology and hygiene. I shall be a wonderfully learned person if I
ever know half the things he wishes me to."
"Anthony is splendid," Sylvia announced, "and you will have a chair in a
college some day."
At the absurdity of this suggestion, which nevertheless might one day
come true, Nan laughed, putting her arm across Sylvia's shoulder. "We
must go back indoors or you may take cold, Dr. Wharton," she teased.
"Truly I am glad that your father and mother have made you undertake the
study of medicine instead of going on with nursing. For my part I shall
always prefer you as a physician to Dr. Ashton, even though he has a
good many years' start of you."
Never could Sylvia take things humorously. "Then you will show very poor
judgment, Nan Graham. Richard Ashton is going to be a perfect wonder.
Betty and Esther both say I may be his partner, but I shall not. I am
coming back to Woodford after I graduate and help Dr. Barton. Thank
heavens, he and Rose Dyer finally decided to marry last month. It will
take both of them to look after little Faith. That child is so queer and
fanciful I am afraid she may turn out a poet." And Sylvia did not smile
or have the least understanding that she had said anything amusing when
her friend led her back inside the cabin living room.
Then Meg Everett and her brother John strolled out into the night air,
arm in arm, and went and piled logs on the camp fire farthest away from
the house.
Meg wore nothing on her head in spite of the cold, so that her
yellow-brown hair blew about her face in shocking confusion. Yet her
elder brother did not seem to be in a sufficiently critical mood tonight
to notice it.
"Don't stay outdoors too long or go far away from the cabin, Betty; I am
so afraid you may take cold," Esther Ashton whispered ten minutes after
John and Meg had come in, wrapping her own long white fur coat about her
sister. Esther had been married now for two weeks and she and Richard
Ashton had returned from their honeymoon journey to spend the holidays
with their own people before leaving for Boston. So Esther was in bridal
white, with no other color than her crown of red hair. Betty wore the
last frock she had bought in London before sailing for home, having paid
a great deal more for it than she felt that she should, just to taste
the joy of being extravagant once again. It was of blue velvet with a
silver girdle, with silver embroidery about the throat. Instead of
jewelry she wore her chains of Camp Fire honor beads.
"No, I won't be gone long, dear," Betty answered. "I have promised too
many people to dance with them. But it is such a glorious night! And I
have told Anthony Graham that I would look at the beautiful picture our
cabin makes with the camp fires burning around it. The moon is now just
above the top of the old hill."
At this moment Dick Ashton joined them. "Moon, Betty Ashton," he began
with a pretense of sternness, "is the very last word I wish to hear from
your lips."
Then, as Betty ran away from the possibility of his further objecting to
her departure, Dick turned seriously to Esther.
"Esther, if you have any influence with Betty, do please stop allowing
her to have admirers. Tell her that she is not to be permitted to
consider any one seriously, say for five or ten years."
As Esther laughed, he added, "Who is it that she has gone off in the
moonlight with this time? Anthony Graham? Well, he is a fine fellow,
but has his way to make, and thank fortune cannot think of marrying for
several years!"
Down by the lake, which was frozen over with a thin coating of ice,
forming a kind of mirror for the silver face of the moon, Anthony and
Betty were at this moment standing in the shadow looking out over its
surface.
"I want to tell you something I never have mentioned, Anthony," Betty
said gravely. "I want to thank you for coming to Germany to bring me the
good news of my inheritance. Oh, it is not that I could not have waited
longer to have heard, but that if the news had not come just when it
did, I might have been the unconscious cause of making the two people I
love almost best in the world unhappy all their lives. For you see I did
not dream that Dick cared for Esther or she for him. So I kept on urging
Esther to devote herself to her music, when all the time she and Dick
wanted to be married, and Esther was only going on with her music
because she wanted to earn money for me and for father. As though
either one of us wished her to sacrifice herself!"
"Still, your brother was a brave fellow to ask a girl to give up such a
future," Anthony Graham returned. "I don't think I could have done it."
Betty frowned at him. "Why not?" she demanded.
Turning toward her, Anthony now looked at her so steadfastly that the
girl's white lids drooped.
"Well, once I cared for a girl who was miles and miles above me in
family, position, beauty, brains, oh, everything that is worth having,
except one thing!" he explained. "Neither she nor her people had money;
they had lost it through misfortune. So I used to work and dream that
some day I might be able to climb that _one_ hill. But before I was even
halfway up my hill--oh, I can't talk in figures of speech, I must speak
plain English--why the girl inherited a lot of money. So now she has
everything and I have nothing worth while to offer her. Yet I don't wish
her to think that I have ever ceased caring for her or ever will."
"Anthony," Betty replied unexpectedly, "I always wear that little
enameled pin representing a pine tree that you sent me by Polly a long
time ago. But I have been thinking lately that perhaps you did not
remember that one of the meanings of the pine tree is faithfulness."
Then she moved away toward the cabin and, as the young man walked along
beside her without speaking, she said half to herself and half to him,
"Not long ago I had one person declare that he cared for me because I
had inherited a fortune. And here is another person who has ceased
caring because I have money. Yet, if I have to choose between the two, I
believe I like the American way best."
"You don't mean that you like _me_, do you, Betty?" Anthony pleaded.
The Princess shook her head. "I don't mean anything--yet, Anthony," she
answered.
Inside the living room on their return they found at least a dozen
friends urging Esther to sing. To Margaret Adams' request she finally
yielded. For Miss Adams had lately come to Woodford to spend the week
with Polly O'Neill's family. And now Polly was standing with her arm
slipped caressingly through her friend's.
"I shall never, never be able to understand how Esther Crippen could
give up her art and her career for Dick Ashton's sake, fine as he is,"
Polly murmured in Miss Adams' ear. "If I only had one-half of Esther's
talent for the work I hope to do I should be down on my knees with
gratitude." Then Polly gave the arm she was holding fast a slight
pressure. "But mother says perhaps I may come and have a small part in
your company next spring, as you said I might. And surely if anybody in
the world can teach me to be a great actress it is you!"
Then Polly's lips twitched and her expression changed in its odd Irish
fashion, for across the room she now caught sight of her old enemy and
friend, Billy Webster, still glowering disapprovingly at her. But the
next instant he had turned and was smiling a reply to some question that
Mollie O'Neill had just put to him.
Then no one spoke or moved for several moments, under the spell of
Esther's "Good-night" Camp Fire song.
"Beneath the quiet sentinel stars, we now rest.
May we arise to greet the new day, give it our best.
Good-night, good-night, God over all."
The next volume in the Camp Fire Series shall be known as "The Camp Fire
Girls' Careers." The group of girls who first came together to spend a
summer as a Camp Fire Club in the woods are now grown up and life has,
of course, altered and widened for all of them. The question now is,
What will each girl do to make her future happy and successful? Will she
marry well or ill, or will she choose to follow some career in which
marriage has no part? Although the fifth volume is to deal with the
original number of heroines, it will be more largely devoted to the most
brilliant and erratic of the twelve Camp Fire Girls, Polly O'Neill.
STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SUNRISE HILL
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AMID THE SNOWS
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE OUTSIDE WORLD
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ACROSS THE SEA
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' CAREERS
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN AFTER YEARS