“In a village in eastern Hungary,” began Nyoda, “there lived a girl about your age. Her father was a very wealthy man, and lived on a great estate. Veronica—that was the girl’s name—was the only child, and had everything that her heart desired. The thing she loved to do the best was ride horse-back and she had a beautiful horse for her very own. She showed great talent on the violin and had the best masters. Veronica grew to be seventeen as happy as a girl could be, with an indulgent father and a beautiful, sweet mother. Then a dreadful thing happened. War was declared in the country and the village where they lived was taken by the enemy. Her father was killed, their home was burned and her mother died. Veronica, with the rest of the people in the village, ran away toward the mountains when the village burned. But Veronica became separated from her friends and fell, and could not get up again, for her leg was broken. She lay there a long time, and gave herself up for lost, when she heard a whinny beside her and there was her pet horse, who had been following her all the way. She managed to swing herself up on his back and he galloped away to the safety of the mountains. They found their way across the border into another country where some kind people took care of the orphan girl. The faithful horse fell after he had brought her to safety and hurt himself so badly that he had to be shot. The people who took care of Veronica sent her across the ocean to her aunt and uncle. So, sad and lonesome, she came to this country to be an American.”
Here Nyoda paused for breath, and Hinpoha burst out quickly, “Oh, how I wish this had happened in our time and that poor lonely girl had come to this city and we had met her and made her happy. Wouldn’t we be kind to her, though, if we had a chance?”
Nyoda proceeded quietly. “All this has happened in your time, and this lonesome girl has come to our city, and you are going to have a chance to be kind to her often.”
“Nyoda!” shrieked all the girls at once. “You mean she lives in our city, and you actually know her?” “Where does she live?” “When will we see her?” “What is her whole name?” “How old did you say she was?”
“Have mercy!” exclaimed Nyoda, putting her hands over her ears. “I can only answer ten questions at once. Veronica’s uncle is Mr. Lehar, the conductor of the Temple Theatre orchestra. I live next door to them, you know, and am well acquainted with Mrs. Lehar. She told me about Veronica some time ago and last week she went to New York to get her. I immediately asked her to allow her niece to join the Winnebago group, if you girls were willing to take her, that she might not be lonely here. Will you take her in, girls?”
“We certainly will!” cried Gladys and Hinpoha in a breath, and Sahwah sprang to her feet exclaiming vehemently, “Well, I guess so!”
“When is she coming?” they wanted to know next.
“I’ll bring her to the next meeting,” promised Nyoda, “and I want you girls to—”
What it was she wanted them to do they never found out, for just at that minute there was a terrific thump on the floor below followed by the hurried clatter of heavy footsteps, then the scraping of feet on the ladder, a great waving and billowing of the curtain at the top and then it was wrenched aside, and into the Council Chamber there burst the fattest boy they had ever seen. His great cheeks hung down over his collar; his eyes were nearly buried. His face was purple from violent exertion and he sat limply against the bearskin bed, panting heavily. The girls stared open-mouthed at the intruder. Before they had recovered sufficiently from their astonishment to utter a single word, the barn below was filled with the noise of many footsteps and the shouting of many voices, and the next minute the sacred Council Chamber of the Winnebagos was filled to overflowing with boys.
At the sight of the lighted chamber and the girls in Indian costumes the intruders stopped and stared in speechless surprise. Then with one accord seven hats were snatched from as many heads and seven voices exclaimed as one, “Beg pardon, we didn’t know anyone was here.”