“Won’t it be awfully hard work?” queried Anne.
“And so senseless when you have tents and a house near enough to place things,” added Eleanor, peevishly. “It will be more fun to swing in a hammock and read stories.”
“One can read books in the Winter but who wants to do it in camp?” scorned Hilda.
“My mother sent me a box of novels and I shall take it easy and read—you girls can do as you like,” retorted Eleanor.
Miss Miller heard the conversation and was on guard at once. “Who is your favourite author, Eleanor?”
“I have so many, I hardly can tell,” said the girl, not aware of the Guide’s intentions to draw her out.
“What style of book do you prefer? Travel, history, or love stories?”
“Oh, love, to be sure! The kind that are run serially in the ‘Cosmo’ Magazine. I adore them and the moment the books are out I buy them to read again. I can devour the love scenes again and again, and enjoy them!” sighed Eleanor, sentimentally.
“When that box of books arrives, Eleanor, will you allow me to look them over first?”
“Of course you may, but I can’t see why you would want to read them first—you couldn’t finish them all in a month!” laughed Eleanor.