“Sally, if you love me do not speak of Peggy’s absence or of her approaching marriage. She is too absurdly young! And yet I presume I must have given my consent as Peggy declared she would not marry without it, although she and Ralph Merritt already feel they have waited a long time. Sally, I feel as you do that our Camp Fire circle is becoming too small. Perhaps we shall grow too centered in one another and not so helpful as we wish to be. What would you suggest as a remedy?” There was no immediate reply, the other girls as well as Sally Ashton pondering the question. “Why, I presume we ought to invite other girls to join our Sunrise club,” Sally answered a moment later. And although her reply was neither original nor startling, it was received with unsympathetic silence. “You have the most unfortunate fashion, Sally, of saying things other people would prefer _not_ to hear,” Alice Ashton remarked with sisterly severeness. Then, before any one else had an opportunity to speak, the living-room door opened and Mrs. Graham and Bettina entered. “Glad you have arrived at last, Betty, we have been waiting tea for you and Bettina. I was just about to send one of the girls to find out what had become of you. Vera has made a wonderful lot of toast and we don’t wish it to grow cold.” “Sorry to have delayed you,” Mrs. Graham replied, “but the most extraordinary thing has occurred. I am glad to find all of you gathered together here at the same time. This morning the young fellow, Allen Drain, who had dinner with us, brought me a collection of his unpublished poems which he wished to have me read. They were in a black leather portfolio about a foot square. When I drove to Saranac this morning I left the portfolio on a small table in Bettina’s and my bedroom. Since my return Bettina and I have searched for more than an hour and can find no sign of it. Did you, Polly, or any of the girls take possession of it? I cannot believe Aunt Patricia would be interested. Some one of course must have moved it. I don’t mean to be cross, but I think I should have been told. Bettina and I have had an uncomfortable hour of searching. Yet, whoever loved the poems better than I shall be forgiven as soon as they are restored to me.” There was no immediate reply, Mrs. Burton, Aunt Patricia and the girls glancing at one another, each expecting the other to plead guilty. “Well, confess, please, won’t some one? I am sure the poet would be flattered if he learned what has occurred,” Mrs. Burton added. “I am sorry, Betty. You should have come at once and asked, rather than tired yourself by searching.” “Never a sign of the poet’s manuscript have I beheld!” Alice Ashton returned. “I am guiltless, Mrs. Graham, but why did you not let me know so that I might have helped you look?” Marguerite Arnot answered.