.

"O yes, dances," echoed pretty Annie Pearson, her eyes shining.

"I like the roller skating at the Arcade," another declared.

"The gym and swimming pool and tennis." That was Mary Hastings.

"Hear her, will ye?" Eva Bicknell muttered. "Great chance _we_ have for
tennis and gym.!"

"You could have them at the Y.W.C.A. That's where I go for them when you
go to your dances and picture shows," retorted Mary.

"But the picture shows is great fun, 'specially when the boys take ye
in," the other flung back.

There was a laugh at that, and the little bundle-wrapper added, "an'
finish up with a promenade on the avenue in the 'lectric lights."

Laura's heart sank at these frank expressions of opinion. What had she
to offer that would offset picture shows, dances and "the boys" for such
girls as these? But now one of the High School girls was speaking. "We
have most of our good times at the school. There is always something
going on--lunches or concerts or socials or dances--and once a year we
get up a play. Some girl in the class generally writes the play. It's
great fun."

Laura brightened at that. Here were three at least who cared for
something besides picture shows. For half an hour longer she let the
talk run on, and that half-hour gave her sidelights on many of the
girls. Except Olga--she had not opened her lips during the discussion.

When there came a little pause, Laura spoke in a carefully careless way.
"I told you, girls, that this is our Camp Fire room and I want you to
feel that it belongs to you--every one of you owns a share in it. We
shall have the Council meetings here every Saturday, but this room is
not to be shut up all the other evenings. We may have no moving
pictures, but you can come here and dance if you wish, or play games, or
sing--I'm going to have a piano here soon--or if you like you can bring
your sewing--your Christmas presents to make. What I want you to
understand is that this room is yours, to be used for your pleasure. You
haven't seen all yet."

Rising, she touched a button, and as the room was flooded with light,
threw open a door. The girls, crowding after her, broke into cries of
delight and admiration; for here was a white-tiled kitchen complete in
all its appointments, even to a small white-enamelled gas range and a
tiny refrigerator. On brass hooks hung blue and white saucepans and
kettles and spoons, and a triangular corner closet with leaded doors
revealed blue and whi