“Oh, I do thank you!” she said. “And it will mean so much to be able to go on living with your mother. But will you promise not to talk about my affairs to anybody? I’m just a girl your mother is helping!”
“Why, certainly,” replied John. “Just as you wish.” Nevertheless he was mystified by her desire to hide from the world.
They walked along silently for awhile; then John talked of indifferent things until Dorothy seemed quite in control of herself again. At last she said,
“Can’t you tell me more about this girl? I’m so interested.”
“Why, yes, of course,” replied the young man. “Only I’d rather not tell you her name.”
“Naturally,” agreed Dorothy.
It was an interesting subject to John, and he spoke glowingly of the girl’s courage, her sincerity, her integrity. He told of her career as a Girl Scout, of the prizes and merit-badges she had won, of her distinction in being selected patrol leader of the troop which represented the United States scouts at the World Conference in Canada. Her record would not be complete, he thought, if he did not mention some of the difficulties and trials she had encountered during her boarding school life, and so he told Dorothy about Ruth Henry, and her mean actions against Marjorie; and as he related these incidents, he noticed that his companion listened with blazing eyes. Probably the story would do her good; in her interest in the other girl, she could forget her own troubles for a time.
“Why, she’s wonderful!” she cried, admiringly, when John had finished. “And she’s a Girl Scout officer now?”
“Yes, a Girl Scout lieutenant!” said John, proudly.
Dorothy seemed to be lost in thought.