She was courteous but plainly cared for no one save Mrs. Burton, whose every wish she seemed able to anticipate and fulfil. Devoted as they were to their guardian, the other girls had been entirely free from any spirit of hero worship, so that Juliet Temple’s attitude became annoying. To Miss Patricia it was more than annoying; her disfavor increased daily. Yet whatever story Juliet Temple had confided to the Camp Fire guardian must have aroused her sympathy. Mrs. Burton insisted Juliet was not to leave Tahawus cabin until she had secured surroundings in which she could be content. And pleased with her present environment apparently, Juliet Temple made no especial effort to discover any other abiding place, notwithstanding Miss Patricia’s open hostility. Moreover, there was no disputing the obvious fact that she was useful to Mrs. Burton, although the Camp Fire girls agreed with Miss Patricia in not particularly liking or trusting the latest member of their household, and there was no thought of inviting her to become one of the Sunrise Camp Fire. So, perhaps for this reason, as well as her personal devotion, Mrs. Burton behaved toward the newcomer with especial kindness. Now and then sitting a little apart from the group and fiercely engaged with her knitting, Miss Patricia, after listening to the reading aloud for half an hour or more, would glance from Mrs. Burton to the girl who managed always to be nearer to her than any one else, and observing the expression on the usually colorless and listless face, would rise abruptly and stalk out of the room. Occasionally Mrs. Burton would follow her, but never was Miss Patricia persuaded to return. CHAPTER XVIII Spring Early spring had arrived in the Adirondack forests. Little pools of water lay in patches amid the snow where the sun’s rays shone with especial warmth; down the sides of the mountains one could hear the sounds of brooks released from the winter fastness. Thin cakes of ice still were floating on the surface of Half Moon Lake, yet in the open spaces of clear water one could see the reflection of the spruce trees which all winter had stood sentinel. Now and then a water fowl appeared and stopped to drink, and from deeper in the woods occasionally there was a bird call, poignant and sweet, and the barking of young foxes at night, the beavers, having come forth from their seclusion, were again at work on new dams to meet the spring freshets. On the veranda in front of Tahawus cabin Sally Ashton in a golden brown sweater and tam-o-shanter was sweeping away light patches of snow. Standing in the open doorway Alice Ashton and Bettina Graham were talking to their Camp Fire guardian, who was walking rapidly up and down. “I don’t see why such a display of energy, Tante, unless you are trying to keep warm. Isn’t it a heavenly day?” Mrs. Burton nodded and laughed.