Miss Grandis continued, "You have superb health--this girl has perhaps never been really well for a single day. You have a brain and hands that enable you to accomplish almost what you will. Poor Elizabeth can do so few things well that she has no confidence in herself: yet I believe she might do many things if only she could be made to believe in herself a little. She needs--O, everything that the Camp Fire can do for a girl. Olga, won't you help us to help her?" "How can I?" There was no trace of sympathy in the cold voice, and suddenly the eager hopefulness faded out of Miss Grandis' face. "How can you indeed, if you do not care. I am afraid I made a mistake in coming to you, after all," she said sadly. "I'm sorry, Olga--sorry even more on your account than on Elizabeth's." With that she rose and went away, and Olga looked after her thoughtfully for a moment before she took up her work again. A little later Myra Karr stood looking down at her with a curious expression in her wide blue eyes. "I'm--I'm going to walk to Kent's Corners," she announced, with a little nervous catch in her voice. "Well, what of it? You've been there before, haven't you?" Olga retorted. "Yes, but this time I'm going all _alone_!" Olga's only reply was a swift mocking smile. "I _am_--Olga Priest!" repeated Myra, stamping her foot angrily. "You all think me a coward--I'll just show you!" and with that she whirled around and marched off, her chin up and her cheeks flushed. As she passed a group of girls busy over beadwork, one of them called out, "What's the matter, Bunny?" Myra paused and faced them. "I'm going to walk to Kent's Corners _alone_!" she cried defiantly. A shout of incredulous laughter greeted that. "Better give it up before you start, Bunny," said one. Another, with a mischievous laugh, whisked out her handkerchief and in a flash had twisted it into a rabbit with flopping ears. "Bunny, bunny, bunny!" she called, making the rabbit hop across her lap. Myra's blue eyes filled with angry tears. "You're horrid, Louise Johnson!" she cried out. "You're _all_ horrid. But I'll show you!" and with a glance that swept the whole laughing group, she threw back her head and marched on. The girls looked after her and then at each other. "Believe she'll really do it?" one questioned doubtfully. "Not she. Maybe she'll get as far as the village," replied another. "She'd never dare pass Slabtown alone--never in the world," a third declared with decision. "Poor Myra, I'm sorry for her. It must be awful to be scared at everything as she is!" This from Mary Hastings, a big blonde who did not know what fear was. "Bunny certainly is the scariest girl in this camp," laughed Louise Johnson carelessly. "She's afraid of her own shadow." "Then she ought to have more credit than the rest of us when she does do a brave thing," put in little Bess Carroll in her gentle way. "We'll give her credit all right _if_ she goes to Kent's Corners," retorted Louise.