Of all the girls, only Eileen seemed a trifle sad.
She fingered the Brownie wings on her uniform and stood silently gazing up at the tree house.
“Don’t think about it,” Connie said, taking her hand.
“But I want to,” Eileen replied earnestly. “Never as long as I live do I want to forget about the grand times we’ve had here.”
“You’ll come back next summer, Eileen.”
“I know, but only as a visitor. I wouldn’t so much mind not being a Brownie any more, if only one thing had been settled.”
“What’s that?” asked Connie. She thought she knew, though, the answer Eileen would give.
And she was right.
“More than anything else, I’d like to know who built this tree house for us,” Eileen said slowly. “I don’t suppose we ever shall though.”
Veve had overheard the remark.