The Camp Fire Girls by the Blue Lagoon

"There is only one way that I wish lay before you, Bettina, the way of learning to care for me. Please don't interrupt me, this cannot be altogether a surprise to you. I think I tried to make you see how I felt toward you at the beginning of our acquaintance, although I did my best to wait until your mother and father had learned to know something of me and until you were older. I would wait now if you were not becoming so absorbed in the work you have undertaken that I am afraid you will lose all interest in me. My dear Bettina, affection is the supreme thing and if you will only wait and have faith in me, some day I may be able to offer you a name and a future of which you may be proud."

Bettina shook her head.

"David, I am glad you said this to me, as I wish to be perfectly frank. No, I am not altogether surprised, yet I am going to sound as if I were unappreciative and unkind. I not only don't care for you in the way you desire, but I never could learn to care. I dread the whole thought of romance and sincerely hope it may never come into my life. I have my work and my family and friends and please never speak of this again."

"But if it should come, Bettina, when you are older and wiser and less self-absorbed, would I, could I have any chance with you then?"

"No, David Hale, never; from the first I have never wanted you to be anything but my friend. Please let me say good-by and good luck to you. There is some one else in the garden and I am afraid we might be overheard."

"Good-night, and good-by for a long time, Bettina. I am sorry to have troubled you."

As Bettina ran on, Robert Burton stepped in front of her.

"You are not going indoors on a night like this, Miss Graham! Why not stay and talk to me for a while? I don't know what the other fellow has done to make you in such haste, but I shall try to be more agreeable. You have been very kind to have asked me here, but I have seen less of my hostess than I counted on seeing.

"Remember when we are back in New York you have promised to take me to one of your settlement houses and make me useful, if it is possible that an idle fellow like I am can be useful to anyone."

"Yes, no, thank you, but I must go in," Bettina protested. "Nothing has happened, but I am in a good deal of a hurry. Why are you idle? Please understand I don't wish you to help with the settlement work on my account, not unless you feel a deep interest in the work itself."

"Yes? Well, that is one way of stating the case," Robert Burton answered. "Wasn't I a good Samaritan when you were lost in New York?"

Bettina did not answer, already having vanished up the path toward the house.

At the same moment that Bettina was escaping in one direction, Mary Gilchrist was hurrying down the front lawn toward the lagoon in search of Allan Drain.

She was a good deal excited and considerably out of breath.

Allan appeared extremely comfortable lying on the bottom of the anchored boat with his face upturned to the sky.

"Oh, Allan, I have the most wonderful news for you!" Gill exclaimed, giving a flying leap and landing in the bottom of the boat which rocked dangerously at her descent.

"If you have, Gill, I think it your duty not to attempt to drown me before I am able to hear it," Allan expostulated, straightening up and removing the sofa cushions upon which he had been resting and tossing one of them to Gill.

"Really, Gill, of late you have been returning to those boyish habits and manners which I found so reprehensible in you at the beginning of our acquaintance. After you have confided to me your thrilling information do you think you can sit calm and speechless in this boat for the next half hour?

"I had escaped from the others in order to enjoy a little peace and solitude, which is so difficult to attain upon a house party. You may not have intended it, but at the instant you plunged into this boat I am under the impression that you destroyed an immortal sonnet. I cannot recall a line at present, that is why I feel so convinced it was immortal."

"A thousand times I crave your pardon, Allan Drain. You know I have a fashion of banishing your poetic muse. However, return to your poetizing, I can sit here in silence for a half hour or more before telling you my wonderful news just as readily as after telling it to you."

Five minutes passed.

Finally Allan yawned.

"See here, Gill, I think you might confide what you came to say. I have an idea that it is of small importance-girls' secrets usually are-but it bores me to have you sit there with your lips tightly pressed together, as if the words would rush through otherwise, and your face white and your eyes shining. If any good fortune has come to you, Gill, please tell me. You know how glad I shall be."

"The good fortune is not mine, it is yours, only it is mine also because I am so glad for you."

"Then let me hear what it is. I know you too well to believe you would try to deceive me," Allan answered, as if he were fighting against a hope he dared not permit himself to hold.

"It cannot be possible that Mrs. Burton has a good word to say for my play!"

"More than that, Allan, she is very enthusiastic. Now do keep still and I shall tell you everything I know. The night of her return to the 'House by the Blue Lagoon', Mrs. Burton was feeling restless and unhappy over something that was troubling her a great deal, and so was unable to sleep. She rose up out of bed and wrote a letter to her husband; when she had finished, as your play was in her desk, she picked it up and began looking it over, with no thought of actually reading it at the time. Something interested her, a line, or a character, and she read on until she had finished. When she lay the play down and turned off the electric light dawn had come. Still she remained unable to sleep."

"You mean she was thinking of my play?"

"Yes, Allan, I do mean that, she was thinking of it, but she was distrusting her own judgment and determined to wait until a day or more had passed in order to read the play again before arriving at a decision or speaking to any one concerning it.

"This afternoon she read it for the second time and after dinner asked Mrs. Graham and Aunt Patricia and me to come into her sitting-room. She explained that she asked me rather than any one of the other Camp Fire girls, because of late we have appeared to be special friends and because accidentally I gave your play its title: 'The Red Flower'. She told me I was to come and tell you how much she liked it before she spoke to you herself, so that perhaps you would forgive me for the loss of your poems a year ago.

"Allan, why don't you say something? What is the matter? I simply go on talking in this stupid fashion because you won't speak."

"I can't, Gill, not for a moment, the wonder and surprise and happiness are too great. Now Mrs. Burton likes my play I shall be willing to consign it to the flames from whence it received its name."

"Foolish boy, do you suppose I believe you? I ought not to tell you this, because I was not given the right, although no one said I must not speak of it. Mrs. Burton wants to play 'The Red Flower' next winter, if her manager thinks the play half so fine as she thinks it. She is to telegraph him in the morning to come to the island and give her his opinion. If they agree she wants to remain here on the island in one of the small fishermen's cottages, which can be done over, and study and work for a part of the summer. There will probably be changes that must be made, so she wants you to spend a part of the time here if it is possible for you."

There was no reply, save that leaning over, Allan lifted the anchor. Then taking both oars he pulled rapidly out into the centre of the blue lagoon and onward toward the bay.

"Don't be frightened, Gill, I'll not get into a difficulty to-night. This is the greatest moment of my life and I cannot sit still and accept it calmly. I want to feel myself a part of all this, of the water and the sky and of creation itself. Don't laugh at me and don't trouble to understand, only thank you and know that I would rather you had shared this moment with me than any one else. We are friends now, Gill, for all time, whatever may seem to separate us in the future, we must both recall this hour and the beauty and peace of the Blue Lagoon!"

* * * * * * * *

1

See "Camp Fire Girls" Series.

2

See "Camp Fire Girls in Glorious France."

3

See "Camp Fire Girls at Half Moon Lake."

4

See "Camp Fire Girls at Half Moon Lake."

5

See "Camp Fire Girls in Glorious France."

6

See "Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows."

7

See "Camp Fire Girls at Half Moon Lake."