"I'm not an angel now, Zara, and I certainly never used to be, nor a bit like one. Just because I've happened to be able to help you two a little, you think altogether too much of me."
"Oh, no; we couldn't—"
"Well, as I was saying, Mrs. Chester saw how things were going, and she started to talk to me. I was horrid to her at first, and wouldn't pay any attention to her at all."
"I'm going to ask her about that. I don't believe you ever were horrid to anyone."
"Probably Mrs. Chester won't admit it, but it's true, just the same, Bessie. But she talked to me, and kept on talking, and she made me think about all the poorer girls who had to work so hard and couldn't go to parties. And I began to feel sorry, and wonder what I could do to make them happier."
"You see, that's just what we said! You weren't selfish at all!"
"I tried to stop as soon as I found out that I had been, Zara; that's all. And I think anyone would do that. It's because people don't think of the unhappiness and misery of others that there's so much suffering, not because they really want other people to be unhappy."
"I guess that's so. I suppose even Farmer Weeks wouldn't be mean if he really thought about it."
"I'm sure he wouldn't—and we'll have to try to reform him, too, before we're done with him. You see, if there were more people like Mrs. Chester, things would be ever so much nicer. She heard about the Camp Fire Girls, and she saw right away that it meant a chance to make things better, right in our home town."
"Is that how it all started?"