The Camp Fire Girls in the Outside World | Page 4

to feel I have
the privilege of lighting it; I have been dying to for the past hour, but
didn't think I could afford it without company," Betty confided,
blowing at the flames. "Do please get some chairs and let us draw up
quite close. It is so much pleasanter to talk that way."
Yet Anthony Graham only stared without moving. To think of a
Princess speaking of not being able to afford so inexpensive a luxury as
a fire. Suddenly the young man longed to be able immediately to chop
down an entire forest of trees and lay it as a thank offering before her.
Of course his sister Nan had written him of Mr. Ashton's death and of
the change in the family fortunes, but to associate real poverty with his
conception of Betty was impossible. Glancing uneasily about the great
room it was good to see how beautiful it still looked, how perfect a
setting for its young mistress. So at least they were able to keep their
handsome home.
To the young man Betty Ashton now appeared more beautiful than his
former impression of her. For on the day of their original meeting she
had worn a fur coat and a cap covering her hair and a portion of her
face. But now the three Camp Fire candles were once more burning,
forming a kind of shining background for the girl's figure. Her hair was
a deep red brown, with bronze tones, the colors in the autumn woods.
There was no longer any sign of pallor or weariness in her cheeks, for
pleasure and excitement had reawakened the old Betty.
"Do sit down," she urged again. "I want to hear all about you."

Then, coming to his senses, Anthony managed to drag two comfortable
chairs before the blaze.
"There isn't anything much to tell," he began shyly. "Only after you
gave me that money I just started walking farther and farther away
from Woodford. Why, it seemed to me that I didn't ever want to stop,
for that would give me a chance to realize what I had done. And I didn't
stop, either, until I was too dead tired to go on. But by that time I had
come to another town and it must have been pretty late, because the
main street was empty. I was passing along close to the wall of a
building when I saw that an office door had been left open. It was
pretty cold, so I peeped in. The room was dark and there was nobody
about, so creeping inside I lay down on the floor and went to sleep."
The boy stopped, but his listener was leaning forward with her hands
clasped and her lips parted with eagerness.
[Illustration: "There isn't anything much to tell"]
"Do go on and tell me every detail. It sounds just like a story," she
entreated.
"When I woke up it was daylight and I found that I had landed in a
dusty, untidy place, littered with old books and papers," he continued.
"A small stove in the corner was choked up with ashes. I can't tell
exactly why, but the first thing I did that morning was to scrape out
those ashes, and then I found some sticks and coals and built a fresh
fire." Anthony flashed a glance at Betty out of his shy, almost
frightened blue eyes. "I guess I was feeling kind of well disposed
toward fires just then, camp fires anyhow. Then I was thinking that I
would like to pay for my night's lodging in some way. I fell to brushing
out the room, so that when the young man came down later he would
find his office cleaned up. Seemed like all of a sudden, after what had
happened between you and me, that I wanted to work and pay my own
way. I had never before been anything but a loafer."
"But you couldn't have known that the office belonged to a young man
unless you waited there until after he came in!" Betty exclaimed.

Anthony laughed. "Oh, yes, I waited all right and I have been in that
same office more or less ever since, until I came home to Woodford the
day before yesterday. Of course I meant to clear out as soon as I had
finished, but while I was working I heard a quiet chuckle behind me,
and swinging around, there stood Mr. Andrews!"
"But who was or is this Mr. Andrews?" Betty asked impatiently, too
interested to be particularly polite.
"My next best friend, after you," the young fellow answered. "Why, I
think I can remember even now his very first words to me: 'Hello,' he
said, 'why are you doing me such a good turn?' 'Because you have just
done