ooked into Elizabeth's wistful blue ones.

It was finally agreed that the three High School girls, Frances Chapin,
Elsie Harding, and Alice Reynolds, with Mary Hastings, Annie Pearson,
and Rose, should go with Miss Laura to the hospital.

"I c'n see kids enough at home any time," Lena Barton declared airily.
"I'd rather walk down the avenue on Sunday than go to any hospital."

"I guess I'll be excused too," said Louise Johnson. "Hospital visiting
isn't exactly in my line. I've a hunch that I'd be out of place amongst
a lot of sick kiddies. But I'll agree to be satisfied with any
blue-eyed baby girl you and Miss Laura pick out for our Camp Fire Kid.
Say, girlies"--she looked around the group--"I move we make those seven
our choosing committee--Miss Laura, chairman, of course."

"But, Johnny," one girl objected, "maybe they won't find any girl to fit
our pattern over at the hospital."

"It is not at all likely that we shall," Laura hastened to add, "and if
we did, it would probably be one with parents or relatives to care for
it after it leaves the hospital."

"Blue-eyed angel babies, with dimples, don't come in every package. I
s'pose you'd want one with dimples too?" Eva Bicknell scoffed.

"O, of course, dimples. Might as well have all the ear-marks of a beauty
to begin with, anyhow," giggled Louise. "She'll probably develop into a
homely little freckle-faced imp by the time she's six, anyhow."

"There's worse things in the world than freckles," snapped Lena Barton,
whose perky little nose was well spattered with them.

"So there are, Lena--so there are," Louise teased. "Yours will probably
fade out by the time you're forty."

A cuckoo clock called the hour, and the girls reluctantly agreed that it
was time to go. But first Laura, her arms around as many as she could
gather into them, with a few gentle tender words brought their thoughts
back to the deep meaning of the thing they were planning to do--trying
to make them realize their opportunity for service, and the far-reaching
results that must follow if a little life should come under their care
and influence.

For once Louise was silent and thoughtful as she went away, and even
Lena Barton was more subdued than usual until, at last, with a shrug of
her shoulders, she flung out the vague remark,

"After all, what's the use?" and thereupon rebounded to her usual gay
slangy self.

But Elizabeth went home with Miss Laura's words echoing in her heart. "I
d