She was a tall, slender girl with light-brown hair and eyes of almost the same shade. Her features were regular and delicately cut. She possessed a poise of manner and a seriousness unusual in so young a person. Joan was an only child and her mother a semi-invalid. Her father, an inventor, had made no practical success with any of his inventions, so that Joan was forced through circumstances to become the practical member of her family.
She was leaning forward now over the round table, her eyes traveling slowly from one face to the other, faces that either returned her gaze or revealed downcast eyes.
In the old room there was a momentary silence in spite of the presence of so many girls.
“I agree with Tory. It is absolutely necessary that we do something right away,” Joan remarked slowly.
Louise Miller appeared impatient.
“Yes, but what? I know it has been good for all our souls to confess that we have fallen into the slough of despond. Assuredly we are upon the downward grade! I don’t know how to express it! Having made the confession, what is to happen next? I have realized ever since Christmas that I was not living up to our Girl Scout principles, as I tried so hard to in the beginning. At first we had the excitement of organizing and of struggling to earn our first merit badges, of ceasing to be mere tenderfeet. Then followed our wonderful summer in Beechwood Forest! Never have I been so happy anywhere on earth! I am sure my whole life will be influenced by it!
“When I came back home in the early fall I remember making the noblest resolutions. I was going to work harder at school, not in the subjects I care for most, but in those that have never interested me. I was going to be more helpful at home. My family would scarcely believe that I acquired a badge for cooking over a camp fire last summer. I intended to forget that I am more thrilled by birds and insects and trees and stones than by making beds and dusting the parlor and sewing on buttons. In truth, I really gave such a good imitation of doing what I should, that my family, who were not enthusiastic about the Girl Scouts at first, were beginning to be impressed.
“Just before Christmas time I discovered myself slipping into my old indifference and awkwardness.
“Mother declares I have become impossible now. So what shall I do? We might take up each individual case one at a time. I am sure I am the most hopeless of our Troop, so begin with me. I never have felt I had the same right the rest of you have to membership.”
There was no mistaking the fact that Louise was deeply in earnest. She possessed little self-esteem, scarcely a sufficient amount. Her own lack of beauty and charm of manner, her slow, oftentimes clumsy movements, her inability to speak or think quickly, had always given her the consciousness that she was less attractive than other girls. And unfortunately for Louise, her own mother in a measure agreed with this opinion. She herself was pretty, graceful and fond of society.