to be
well and strong again that I'm determined to be satisfied with things as
they are. The camp was lovely and Miss Laura and the girls were dear,
but this is home, and my work is waiting for me, and I'm _able to do
it_. And you have your lovely work too, Lizette, and your home corner
across the hall."

Lizette looked at her half wondering, half envious, as she slowly pulled
out her hatpins. "I never knew a fever to change a girl as that one
changed you, Olga Priest," she said.

"Is the change for the better?"

"Yes, it is, but----"

"But what?" Olga questioned, half laughing, yet a little curious too.

[Illustration: "Just think of the Lookout this very minute!"]

"Well--all is, I can't keep up with you," Lizette dropped unconsciously
into one of her country phrasings. "I can't help getting into the
doleful dumps sometimes, and I can't--I just _can't_ be happy and
contented with the mercury at ninety-three. I guess it's easier for some
folks to stand the heat than it is for others."

"I think it is," Olga admitted. "Give me your hat. Now take that fan and
sit there by the window till I come back. I'm not so tired as you are,
and I must get something for our supper."

While she was gone Lizette sat thinking of the Camp with its shady woods
and blue water and wishing herself back there. She had had three weeks
there, but a hateful little imp was whispering in her ear that some of
the girls were staying four or five weeks, and it wasn't fair--it wasn't
_fair_! Of course it was better to earn her living doing embroidery than
in Goldstein's store, but still, some girls didn't have to earn their
living at all, and----

The door opened and Olga came breezily in, her hands full of bundles. "I
really ought to have taken a basket," she said. "There's the nicest
little home bakery opened just around the corner--I got bread there."

"I'm not a bit hungry," Lizette said listlessly, then started up, crying
out, "Well, I am ashamed of myself! I meant to have the table set when
you came back, and I forgot all about it."

"Never mind--I'll have it ready in a minute. Sit still, Lizette."

But Lizette insisted upon helping, and her face brightened as Olga set
forth fresh bread, nut cakes, ice cold milk, and a dish of sliced
peaches.

"Weren't you mistaken?" Olga asked with a laugh. "Aren't you a little
bit hungry?"

"Yes, I am. How good that bread looks--and the peaches."

"After all it is rather nice to be back here