"I was wrong and you were right this morning," he said, pleasantly. "I want to apologize to you, Bessie. And I shall try to make up to you for having treated you so badly. How can I do that?" "Oh, there's nothing to make up, General," said Bessie, tearfully. "I'm so glad you know I didn't do that!" "But what are you doing here--and in that dress?" "I--I was going away--so that the others could stay." "I see--so that they wouldn't have to suffer because I was so brutally unkind to you. Well, you come with me! Why didn't you wear the other clothes, though? They're nicer than these." "They're not mine. These are all I have, of my own." "Is that so? Well, you shall have the best wardrobe money can buy, Bessie, just as soon as Mrs. Chester can get it for you. I'll make that my present to you--as a way of making up, partly, for the way I behaved to you. How will you like that?" "That's awfully good of you, but you mustn't--really, you mustn't!" "I guess I can do as I like with my own money, Bessie. And I'm going to be one of your friends--one of your best friends, if you'll let me. Will you shake hands, to show that you don't bear any hard feelings?" And Bessie, unable to speak, held out her hand. General Seeley wrung it--then he started, suddenly. "Here, here, what am I thinking of?" he said, briskly. "I must find Mrs. Chester and ask her to forgive me. Do you think she will do it, Bessie? Or haven't you known her long enough--" "Why should she forgive you, sir? You just thought what anyone else would have thought. What I don't understand is why she was willing to believe me. She didn't know anything about me--" "I'll tell you why, Bessie. It's because she knows human nature, and I, like the old fool I am, wouldn't acknowledge it! But I've learned my lesson--I'll never venture to disagree with her again. And I'm going to hunt her up and tell her so." So Bessie, as happy as she had been miserable a few minutes before, went with the general, while he looked for Mrs. Chester. She returned from Pine Bridge just as they reached the camp, and she listened to General Seeley's apologies with smiling eyes. "I knew I was right," was all she said. "And I'm more than glad that the real culprit was found. But, my dear, you oughtn't to have tried to leave us that way. It wasn't your fault, and we should have gone, just the same, and we would have had to look for you until we found you. When we once make friends of anyone, we don't let them get away from us. That wouldn't be true to the spirit of the Camp Fire--not a bit of it!"