Wishing to discuss a question of great importance to her own happiness with her Camp Fire guardian, Bettina had run away from home. The act was not premeditated. When she made her sudden decision her mother and father chanced to be spending a few days away from Washington. Nor would they have objected to her journey, save to prefer that she have an older companion than the little English girl, Elce, originally known as Chitty, whom the Camp Fire girls had known during the summer in "Merrie England."
Bettina had not seen her Camp Fire guardian in six months, not since their parting at Half Moon Lake. Of late, not once, but many times her mother had announced that she would like the benefit of Polly Burton's advice on the question which divided them.
So Bettina suddenly had set out on her pilgrimage to New York with this end in view. To arrive unheralded and not find Mrs. Burton, to be compelled to spend the night with Elce as her only companion would but deepen her mother's impression that she possessed neither the judgment nor experience necessary for the independence she desired.
Nothing would be gained by looking inside her pocket book. She knew exactly the amount of money it contained.
After paying for her own and Elce's tickets and an expensive lunch on the train she had counted it carefully. Seven dollars and forty cents then had seemed a sufficient amount when she expected to be with her Camp Fire guardian in a few hours; it was woefully insufficient to meet the expenses of two persons in New York.
There was one friend to whom she might appeal, but this would make her present difficulty with her mother the greater. Surely there must be some method of discovering her Camp Fire guardian, if only she were not so stupid that she had no idea what to do next. In any case she would not remain longer in the lobby of the hotel and she declined to question the clerk a third time. In the street she would receive fresh inspiration.
She and Elce left the hotel.
Outdoors no new idea immediately occurred to her. It seemed strange that her mother had not mentioned Mrs. Burton's change of address: as they never failed to write each other once a week, undoubtedly she must know. Then Bettina recalled the fact that she and her mother had had but little to say to each other of late, since no matter upon what subject they started to talk, always the conversation veered to the difference between them.
"Don't be worried, dear, I shall be able to think what to do in a few moments," Bettina remarked, with more courage than conviction. "It was ridiculous for the hotel management to decline to give me Tante's change of address. She and Captain Burton will both be annoyed; the clerk should have known they might wish some exception to be made to their order."
Elce nodded, regretting that she was unable to offer any advice and yet perfectly content to abide by Bettina's judgment. In a strange and unfamiliar world, Bettina was her one anchor. Sent to a boarding school, from loneliness and longing for the outdoors, Elce had fallen ill, and unable to continue at school, Bettina's home had been her refuge.