"He wrote a letter yesterday asking me to meet him again on the Big Bridge this morning. When I heard you were all going to night-camp I knew I wouldn't be back in time, so I sent a letter to say I would meet him at noon. That's why I was in such a hurry to get back to camp," sobbed Nita.
"Is he all you would choose in a friend or brother?"
"Mercy, no! Oh, Miss Miller, he is horrid, but he seems to make me do just as he says when he looks at me with a queer glint in his eyes. He has money, and when his grand-mother dies he will inherit all of her fortune, too. Mother says I must marry a rich man when I grow up—she says it will never do for me to be as poor as father is. And I don't want to be poor, either!" cried Nita.
Miss Miller gasped at the revelation of the foolish mother's advice. "Why, Nita, dear, you are only fourteen! You mustn't even think of a husband yet!"
"But every one says I seem much older; even this Jack Everton looked surprised when he asked me my age."
"Poor, poor child! What a joy and blessing you have missed by being so old while still so young! Now, we will remedy this loss and show you how to really enjoy youth!" Miss Miller had tears in her eyes as she spoke.
Nita looked at her for a moment, then obeyed the impulse to hug the woman who had been fearless enough to show her the light on the way.
They sat quietly holding each other for a short time, until the voices of merry girls reached them from the ravine.
"There, dear, run down and find the letter for me. When you return your face will be cool and natural again."
Nita hurried away and Miss Miller ran into her tent and threw herself beside her cot. "Oh, thank you, God! thank you, thank you! I am so happy over this one lamb found on the steep mountain-side! Safe in the fold, she will grow to love purity and truth better than evil."