hile 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' Ca