"No! _No!_" cried Olga under her breath, but with a smile Mrs. Royall went on, "We know that to you the symbols of honours won--beads and ornaments--have little value--but we have for you something that we hope you will value because we all have a share in it, every one in the camp; and we ask you to wear this because you have shown us what one Camp Fire Girl can do for another. The work is all Elizabeth's. The rest of us only gave the beads, and your Guardian taught Elizabeth how to use them." She held out a headband, beautiful in design and colouring. Olga stared at it, at first too utterly amazed for any words. Finally she stammered, "Why, I--I--didn't know--Elizabeth----" and then to her own utter consternation came a rush of tears. _Tears!_ And she had lived dry-eyed through four years of lonely misery. Choked, blinded, and unable to speak even a word of thanks, she took the headband and turned hastily away, and as she went the watching circle chanted very low, "'Wohelo means love. Love is the joy of service so deep that self is forgotten--that self is forgotten.'" With shining eyes--yet half afraid--Elizabeth waited as Olga came back to her. She knew Olga's scorn for honours and ornaments. Would she be scornful now--or would she be glad? Elizabeth felt that she never, never could endure it if Olga were scornful or angry now--if this, her great secret, her long, hard labour of love--should be only a great disappointment after all. But it was not. She knew that it was not as soon as Olga was near enough to see the look in her eyes. She knew then that it was all right; and the poor little hungry heart of her sang for joy when Olga placed the band over her forehead and bent her proud head for Elizabeth to fasten it in place. Elizabeth did it with fingers trembling with happy excitement. The coldness that had so often chilled her was all gone now from the dark eyes. Olga understood. Elizabeth had no more voice than a duckling, but she felt just then as if she could sing like a song sparrow from sheer happiness. It was such a wonderful thing to be happy! Elizabeth had never before known the joy of it. But Mrs. Royall was speaking again. "Wohelo means work and health and love," she said, "you all know that--the three best things in all this beautiful world. Which of the three is best of all?" Softly Anne Wentworth sang, "'Wohelo means love," and instantly the girls took up the refrain, "'Wohelo means love, Wohelo means love. Love is the joy of service so deep that self is forgotten. Wohelo means love.'" Laura's eyes, watching the young, earnest faces, filled with quick tears as the refrain was repeated softly and lingeringly, again and yet again. Mrs. Royall stood motionless until the last low note died into silence. Then she went on: