Her further remarks on the subject were suddenly cut short by merry cries of “Break away! Break away!” from a bevy of girls who had come up to congratulate Ruth. Signally entertained by Frances’ nonsense, the sextette still hemmed Ruth in. Now obligingly obeying the impetuous demand, it broke up to give place to the newcomers. For at least fifteen minutes an impromptu reception went on by the ruddy light of the fire which Miss Drexal had purposely allowed to remain unextinguished for the time being.
“Come girls. It is almost ten o’clock,” she presently reminded the knots of busy chatterers. “We must put out the sacred flame and depart in a hurry. Remember the ten-thirty bell. I am afraid as it is that there will be a dolorous wail of ‘unprepared’ to-morrow morning. Betty and Jane, will you please help me?”
“With pleasure,” responded both at once, halting only long enough to solemnly join their little fingers and wish, by reason of having said precisely the same thing in the same instant.
“Thumbs, Shakespeare, Knickerbocker, salt, pepper, vinegar,” mumbled Betty glibly.
“Elbows, toes, Webster, Washington, ginger, catsup, paprika,” droned Jane. Whereupon they hastily unlocked fingers, giggled and rushed to the aid of the Guardian who had already begun to beat out the fire with a long stick.
That important task efficiently accomplished, a long procession of gay-voiced Camp Fire followers was soon wending a swinging course across the moonlit fields toward the academy. Almost at its head walked Ruth and Emmy, conversing in low, confidential tones.
“I can’t begin to tell you how sweet it was to hear you repeating the Torch Bearer’s Desire,” Emmy was saying softly. “It made me feel so glad and happy for your sake.”
“I knew you’d feel that way about it,” breathed Ruth. “You understood better than anyone else exactly how much it meant—”
“I thought I’d never catch up with you,” broke in a cross voice, as a tall, auburn-haired girl unceremoniously shattered the confidential little session by shoving herself between the two, causing them to relax their light hold on each other’s arms. In the white moonlight the face of the intruder showed decided sulkiness. “Ever since the Council Fire was over I’ve been trying to get in a word edgewise with Ruth. Much good it did to try with the girls all crowding around her, talking at the top of their lungs.”
“Well, here I am, Blanche. Sorry I happened to be so popular, for once.” Ignoring the pettish inflection in the newcomer’s voice, Ruth spoke with her usual sunny good humor. “Was it something special you had to tell me?”