When Laura answered nothing, Olga glanced at her grave face and went on sulkily, "Nobody ought to expect me to put up with an everlasting trailer like that girl." Still Laura was silent until Olga flung out, "You might as well say it. I know what you are thinking of me." "I wasn't thinking of you, Olga. I was thinking of Elizabeth. If you saw her drowning you'd plunge in and save her without a moment's hesitation." "Of course I would--but I wouldn't have her hanging on to me like a leech after I'd saved her." "I suppose you have not realised that in 'hanging on' to you--as you express it--she is simply fighting for her life." "What do you mean, Miss Haven?" "I mean that Elizabeth is--starving. Not food starvation, but a worse kind. Olga, this is the first time in her life that she has ever spent a day away from home--she told me that--or ever had any one try to make her happy. Is it any wonder that she doesn't know how to _be_ happy or make friends? It seems strange that, from among so many who would gladly be her friends here, she should have chosen you who are not willing to be a friend to any one--strange, and a great pity, it seems. It throws an immense responsibility upon you." "I don't want any such responsibility. I don't think any of you ought to put it on me," Olga flung out sulkily. "We are not putting it on you," returned Laura gently. Olga twitched her shoulder with an impatient gesture, and the two walked some distance before she spoke again. Then it was to say, "What are you asking me to do, anyhow?" "_I_ am not asking you to do anything," Laura answered. "It is for you to ask yourself what you are going to do. I believe it is in your power to make over that poor girl mind and body--I might almost say, soul too. She thinks she can do nothing but household drudgery. She is afraid of everything. When I think of what you could do for her in the next month--Olga, I wonder that you can let such a wonderful opportunity pass you by." They went the rest of the way mostly in silence. When they returned to the camp, Elizabeth was watching for them, but the glance Olga gave her was so repellent that she shrank away, and went off alone to the Lookout. Later Laura tried to interest Elizabeth in the making of a headband of beadwork, but though she evidently liked to handle the bright-coloured beads, she would not try to do the work herself. "I can't. I can't do things like that," she said with gentle indifference, her eyes wandering off in search of Olga. The next day, however, Laura came to Anne Wentworth, her eyes shining. "O Anne, what _do_ you think?" she cried. "Olga had Elizabeth in wading this morning. Isn't that fine?" "Fine indeed--for a beginning. It shows what Olga might do with her if she would." "Yes, for she was so cross with her! I wondered that Elizabeth did not go away and leave her. No other girl in camp would let Olga speak to her as she speaks to that Poor Thing."