“Yes,” Olga agreed, “I didn’t believe that I could get sick—I was so strong. And down in my heart I really half believed that people need not be sick—that it was mostly imagination. I shall not be so uncharitable after this.”
“Girls need not be sick many times when they are,” Laura said, “if they would be more careful and reasonable.”
“I know. I won’t go with wet feet any more,” Olga promised, “and I won’t work fourteen hours a day and go without eating, as I’ve been doing this summer. You see, Miss Laura, when I got the order for all that silver work, I knew that if I could fill it satisfactorily, it would mean many other orders. And I did—I finished the last piece the day I was taken sick. But now the money I got for it will go to the doctor and the nurse, and I’ve lost all this time and other work. And that isn’t all. My sickness made it harder for Lizette and Elizabeth. I can’t forgive myself for that. They were so good to me, and so were all the Camp Fire Girls! Every single one of them came to see me, some of them many times, and they brought so many things, and all wanted to stay and help—O, they are the dearest girls!”
Laura’s eyes searched the eyes of the other in the moonlight.
“Olga, are you happy?” she asked softly.
Olga caught her breath and for a moment was silent. When she spoke there was wonder and a great joy in her voice. “O, I am—I am!” she said. “And—and I believe I have been for a long time, but I never realised it till this minute. I didn’t want to be happy—I didn’t mean to be—after mother died. I shut my heart tight and wouldn’t see anything pleasant or happy in all my world. It was so when I went to the camp last year. I went just to please Miss Grandis because she had gotten me into the Arts and Crafts work, and though I wanted to refuse, I couldn’t, when she asked me to go. But I’m so glad now that I went—so glad! Just think if I had not gone, and had never known you and Elizabeth, and Lizette, and the others! Miss Laura, I can’t ever be half glad enough for all that the Camp Fire has done for me.”
“You will pay it all back—to others, Olga,” Laura said gently, her eyes shining. “When I made you my Torch Bearer, you did not realise the importance of holding on to health, nor the duty as well as privilege of being happy. Now you do.”
“O, I do—I do!” the girl cried earnestly.
“So now my Torch Bearer is ready to lead others.”
“I’ll be glad to do it now. I want to ‘pass on’ all that you and the girls have done for me. It will take a lifetime to do it, though. And—I’m not half good enough for a Torch Bearer, Miss Laura.”