The Camp Fire Girls in After Years

by Margaret Vandercook

Of course that was just what she should have been doing for these past two hours, Angelique thought to herself as soon after she slipped away. But it was like Bettina to have suggested it. Already she knew the exact place where she might have been in hiding all this time.

On the second floor toward the rear of the house there was a kind of square landing which faced a small room that was oddly separated from the other apartments. For this reason the Governor had chosen it for his private study. Only one servant was allowed to enter this room and very rarely any member of the family. For in it were kept a number of important letters and papers.

But concealing the entrance tonight were a number of palms and other tall plants, and by placing a small camp chair behind them one could see through the railing of the balustrade down into the big hall. The music was there and many beautifully dressed people were walking up and down.

The little French girl stared for ten minutes without moving. She had a curious, almost passionate love of beautiful people and things, inherited from some far-off French ancestor, who may have been a great artist or perchance only carried a great artist's longings in his soul. Indeed, Angel had real talent of her own and whatever her hands touched she could make lovely, whether it was designing a dress, decorating a room or even making a sketch of a scene or a flower, anything that had appealed to her imagination. Through her Camp Fire training she had learned to make remarkable use of her hands, especially in the days before she was able to leave her wheeled chair. Indeed, Betty and all of her friends had been disappointed when she had failed to follow some artistic profession. Betty had urged and pleaded with her to become an artist or designer and had offered to pay her expenses, yet as soon as she was well enough Angel had insisted upon studying something through which she could at once make her living. By this time the little French girl had been brought too close to life's realities not to understand its difficulties. To make her living as an artist or a designer would take years and years of study and work before she could hope to succeed. Besides, Betty, in spite of Judge Maynard's legacy, was not so rich as she was generous and there were always other people to be thought of. For the Princess had never ceased her generosities, and even if her husband had become a distinguished man it would be difficult for him ever to be a rich one unless something unforeseen happened. Therefore Angel had been happy enough with her stenography and typewriting and with her new position in the Governor's office. For in her heart of hearts it was her philosophy that duty could be done every day and beauty kept for certain exquisite moments.

Now, however, she felt that one of these perfect moments had come. Only she wished that Betty or some one whom she knew might appear within her range of vision. It was entertaining, of course, to watch the strangers and to decide whose clothes were prettiest and guess their names.

Angel drew her chair farther away from the landing so she could peep squarely through the banisters and was now some distance from the study door. Moreover, the following moment she had caught a glimpse of a friend whom she had wished to see almost as much as Betty. There stood a tall girl with pale gold hair, wearing a frock of white and blue, and talking to a young man in as absorbed a fashion as if they had been entirely alone. It was difficult to see her companion and yet the French girl felt that she might have guessed before she finally discovered him. For Faith's face wore the same rapt, excited expression it had worn that afternoon on returning from her walk. What could it mean? Angel pondered. Surely Faith and Kenneth Helm did not yet know each other well enough for Faith's secret to have anything to do with him. Their acquaintance had started only about ten days before.

He Glanced Quickly About Him and Then Disappeared

Surely in her absorbed interest Angelique had no thought of spying on her friend, for two people could not be seriously confidential when hundreds of others were close about them. Nevertheless the watcher felt her own cheeks flush guiltily as she saw the young man below her whispering something in his companion's ear. The next instant, however, Faith had left the hall with some one else. Then to her intense consternation Angel observed Kenneth Helm coming alone straight up the broad stairs. Could it be possible that either one of them had seen her and that Faith was sending Kenneth to bring her down to the ballroom? With all her heart Angel hoped not. She would like to have gotten up and run away to shelter, yet knew it was impossible for her to move without making a noise. By remaining silent there was just a chance that Kenneth Helm was on his way to the men's dressing room and would not notice her. Moreover, if Faith had not sent him to find her probably he would not even speak to her.