“If I am forced to make my début in Washington next winter if you _will_ be good to me I shall be more grateful than you realize. I know I shall be a dismal failure. Really I don’t mind for myself so much as for my mother; I am afraid she is going to be dreadfully disappointed in me, and she always has been in a fashion. It is hard when people love each other a great deal and yet have no congeniality of taste.” “Then why not follow your friend Peggy Webster’s example and so escape the society adventure altogether?” Bettina shook her head. “Thanks, I don’t like to quote tiresome old axioms, but one has heard of the frying pan and the fire. Besides, one cannot follow Peggy’s example all alone. By the way, did you and Marguerite Arnot manage to have your walk together? I hope so. Isn’t Marguerite charming? I envy her exquisite manners. You know she is coming to spend next winter with us in Washington; mother has persuaded her. Sometimes I think it might be well if some witch or fairy should force Marguerite and me to change places. She could fill my place so much more gracefully, however, than I could her’s.” “You could never change places in my estimation.” Bettina laughed. “No, I never anticipated such an honor. But come let us go back to the cabin, the darkness is nearly upon us. Isn’t the evening exquisite? See the little half moon rising there above our lake! I am sorry, but I cannot stay out longer, I promised I would not. It has been nice to have this little talk with you.” CHAPTER XVII Closed In The week following the end of the Christmas holidays, Mary Gilchrist said good-by to her Camp Fire group and returned home. She had made her confession to Mrs. Graham, to the Camp Fire guardian and to the girls themselves. If they were surprised or disappointed, the decision to leave Tahawus cabin was Gill’s own. No one precisely understood the situation. Save for Peggy Webster, Gill had appeared the frankest and most straightforward of their number. The accident to the manuscript was unavoidable, her refusal to confess the accident, her evasion of the truth as little like Gill as any one could imagine. Nor could Gill explain even to herself her unexpected deceit and cowardice. She was more astonished, more disappointed in her own character than any one else. Her talk with her Camp Fire guardian upon this subject she felt she would always remember.