It was Lucille. “If it hadn’t been for me, Nathalie Page,” she emphasized with upheld finger, “your mother would have been down to the fire herself. She was sure you were the first one burned to death. Why, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, Nathalie Page!” she averred indignantly.
But there was no need to lecture Nathalie further, for her heart had been thumping violently in nervous dread all the way home, and she was already scurrying up the walk to the stoop. “Oh, Mother,” she panted, “did you think something dreadful had happened to me?”
“Well, I was quite nervous about you for a time,” replied her mother rather cheerily for one who had been almost worried to death, as she put her arm around the tired girl. “Lucille obligingly started to look for you, and met Dr. Homer, who said you were all right, helping put the fire out as a bucket maiden. But, my dear, you are all wet, and hungry, too, I’ll warrant.”
“You just believe I am,” cried Nathalie. “But, oh, Mother, I have had such an adventurous day! Do let me have something to eat, for I’m just about starved, but, O dear, where’s Fred Tyson; he came home with me?”
Fred was all right, having the cosiest of chats with Lucille—whom all men adored from youth to old age—as they walked up the path to the veranda. Would he come in and have supper? Why, he guessed he would, for he hadn’t had a mouthful since noon.
“By the Lord Harry, is that you, Blue Robin?” spoke a voice from the couch as Nathalie ushered Fred into the hall. “Gee, but you are as black as a colored ‘pusson,’” quoth Dick, as he rose from the couch and hobbled towards her.
It was a most exciting supper, eagerly devoured by Fred and Nathalie, as between bites, with glowing eyes, each one told of her or his experience. Nathalie told of the ringing of the fire bell, the exploits of the Sport, and how she did duty at the pump.
“Oh, Mother, it has just been a regular red-letter day!” she cried at length, “and I’m never again going to despise Edith Whiton for being sporty, for if it hadn’t been for her, I just believe the whole town would have burned down!”
The second day after the fire was a Pioneer Rally day, a Camp Fund day it had been called, for it was at this meeting that the Pioneers were to decide upon the entertainments they proposed having in order to raise the money to pay the cost of two or three weeks at camp that summer. One or two affairs had been held during the winter and spring, so that a small nucleus had been banked, but if this was not increased the hearts of the Pioneers would be “wrung with woe,” as the Sport had put it.
After the usual formalities of the Rally were over, Mrs. Morrow called the names of those who for some meritorious act or word were to receive badges of merit. To Nathalie’s astonishment her name was called, and at a shove from Helen the dazed girl went forward, and received three white stars, one for suggesting the search-party and sticking to her colors in the face of discouragement, another for telling stories to Rosy, and the last for planning and getting up the Story Club. She received the stars, Mrs. Morrow explained, as badges of merit were not given until a Pioneer had passed all tests and was a member of the first order.