“Perhaps you’ll get it back some day,” suggested Alice.
“Never!” declared Mabel. “But don’t think about it. I wonder where the boys are?”
“Who’ll light the fire?” asked Natalie, when the pile was ready for the match.
“Let Mrs. Bonnell have the honor,” suggested Marie, and to the Guardian it went.
The girls did not speak as the tiny flame caught the wood, and began mounting upward until the yellow tongues were playing in and out among the fagots. Silently the Camp Fire Girls sat on the mossy ground about their vestal flame, thinking of many things.
“Isn’t it beautiful,” whispered Natalie.
“So peaceful,” added Marie.
“And such a sweet odor—like incense,” murmured Mabel.
“It’s just lovely,” came from Alice. “It’s too beautiful to go to bed, and there’s going to be a moon, too. I can see it—a new moon.”
“Look at it over your left shoulder and wish,” advised Marie.