There was no suggestion then that Gerry would be a problem in the new club. Already she seemed to be making friends with most of the other girls.
Vera—Billy’s adored friend—might be the trial. The girl had been born in Russia and brought to the United States about six or eight years ago. She spoke English perfectly and did not seem to be ill at ease, although she talked very little. However, Vera’s heavy dark face, with her low brow and long dark eyes, was an interesting one. Curiously, she was also a friend of Mrs. Webster’s—it was Mollie who had added her plea to Billy’s that the Russian girl be a Camp Fire guest.
“Yet, after all, what understanding had she of girls? And how little she had seen of them since her own girlhood!” Mrs. Burton concluded.
Then, just as she was again becoming depressed, she saw her adored niece coming down the aisle.
Peggy always brought an atmosphere of relief and reasonableness. In fact, she discovered at once that her aunt was feeling frightened and unequal to the plan ahead. Of course, it was a great undertaking for a woman who had been spoiled—as Polly O’Neill Burton had been—by husband, family, friends and an admiring public—and not in good health—to suddenly become guide, philosopher, mother and friend to a number of strange girls.
In spite of their audience, Peggy leaned over and kissed her.
“It will be all right, Tante; don’t be downcast. Only at present everybody is homesick and tired as you are. Can’t we have tea? You are not sorry we have come?”
“Certainly not,” and Polly smiled at her own childishness while she rejoiced over Peggy’s sweetness and good sense.
Of course, she had known there would be difficulties in so original a Camp Fire club experiment. But when did anything worth while ever arrange itself without difficulties?
Ten minutes later two colored stewards in white uniforms had arranged the tables and brought in tea.