Now, in spite of the fact that Mrs. Burton could not trust her as she had at the beginning of their friendship, nevertheless Gerry’s prettiness and affectionate manners never failed to appeal to her. She returned the kiss light-heartedly.
A few moments later the other Camp Fire girls appeared.
Peggy took away her aunt’s coat and hat, since Marie had not been seen since the night before. She was no longer sleeping in Mrs. Burton’s tent, but in a tent with several of the girls.
Alice Ashton reported to Mrs. Burton that Marie had not yet lifted her head from the pillow, so overcome did she appear to be, either from relief or regret at the loss of Mr. Simpson.
Breakfast was about ready to serve before Mrs. Webster and Billy finally came out to join the others. They were an odd contrast—the mother and son—suggesting the homely but immortal comparison of the hen with the ugly duckling.
Mrs. Webster—who had once been Molly O’Neill—had cheeks round and soft and rosy as a girl’s. Her blue eyes were filled with the sweetness of a loving and unquestioning nature. She was well past her youth and yet, in spite of her comfortable plumpness and the few grey hairs among the black ones, to the persons who loved her she seemed to grow prettier and sweeter as she grew older. Certainly her own family adored her.
But Billy Webster, her son, was a delicate boy with fair hair and large blue eyes. His expression was difficult to understand until one came to know that Billy questioned everything, but, having decided for himself acted, whenever it was possible, solely upon his own judgment.
When Dan Webster started forward to join his mother and offer his morning greeting, one felt better satisfied. For, except that he was big and strong and virile, he was exactly like her, both in appearance and apparently in character.
The Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls were in the habit of beginning each day with some little ceremony appropriate to their outdoor life and the spirit of their Camp Fire. Each member had her appointed time, for a morning ceremony. Today chanced to be Mrs. Burton’s.
When everybody had assembled she walked toward a clearing and stood with her face to the east and her back against a group of pine trees with a growth of underbrush between.