ut 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," sh