ying the Camp Fire
manual and trying to acquire the necessary honors, this was the first
time Yvonne had worn the costume.

How utterly unlike anything she had ever dreamed were these past weeks
in her life! From the moment of her confession of weakness and the
telling of her story to Mrs. Burton, Yvonne had deliberately chosen to
remain with her rather than continue with the canteen work which she had
originally planned to do in returning to her own country.

For one reason she had fallen under the spell of Mrs. Burton's sympathy
and charm; moreover, the girls in the Camp Fire work were nearer her own
age and were to undertake a character of occupation in which she felt
herself able to be useful. They were also going to live in the
neighborhood of her old home before the outbreak of the war.

As a matter of fact, although Yvonne had preferred not to confide the
information to any one except Mrs. Burton, she was at present not fifty
miles from the chateau in France where she had lived until the night
word came that she and her family must fly before the oncoming horde of
the enemy.

Well, more than three years had passed since that night, three years
which sometimes seemed an eternity to Yvonne. She had no wish to revisit
the ruins of her old home, no wish to be reminded of it. There was no
one left for whom she cared except perhaps a few neighbors.

However, in the last few weeks Yvonne ordinarily did not permit herself
to become depressed. This much she felt she owed to Mrs. Burton's
kindness and to the comradeship which had been so generously given to
her by the Camp Fire girls. Yvonne felt a particular affection for each
one of them. She could not of course feel equally attracted. So far she
cared most for Peggy Webster and for Mary Gilchrist, possibly attracted
toward Mary because she also was an outsider like herself. Then Mary's
boyish attitude toward life, her utter freedom even from the knowledge
of the conventions in which Yvonne had been so carefully reared, at
first startled, then amused the young French girl. But for Peggy
Webster, Yvonne had a peculiar feeling of love and admiration. This may
have been partly due to the fact that Peggy was Mrs. Burton's niece and
so shared in the glamor of the great lady's personality, but it was more
a tribute to Peggy's own character.

After Yvonne's pathetic account of her history, Mrs. Burton had told at
least a measure of her story to Peggy. She had asked Peggy