Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer

by Rena I. Halsey

Notwithstanding the sharp twinges in her foot, she felt as if she could have dropped into a doze if a sudden, jarring thought had not caused her to raise her head in search of her next-door neighbor. By the decision of her voice and her methodical manner of directing her companions as they prepared the “bed of ease,” Nathalie had recognized this girl as the leader.

But Helen Dame was not to be seen. One of the girls, however, on seeing Nathalie’s movement, commanded a halt and hastened to her side. “What can I do for you?” she inquired in an anxious tone. “Are you in pain?”

Her ready sympathy brought the tears to Nathalie’s eyes, for her nerves were somewhat under a strain, but she fought them bravely back, and looking up with a reassuring smile replied, “Oh no, I am all right, but I was looking for Miss Dame. I am afraid if Mother sees me on a stretcher, she will think something very dreadful has happened.”

“Ah, Helen thought of that,” was the quick reply, “and she has gone ahead to tell your mother that you have only hurt your foot, and to see if she can get Dr. Morrow to come over and look at it.”

“Oh, how kind of her—and of you all—” there was a slight tremor in Nathalie’s voice. “I am sure I do not know what would have become of me, alone there in the woods, if you girls had not come to my rescue.”

As the girls walked slowly on with their burden, the one walking by the side of the stretcher told Nathalie that they were a group of Girl Pioneers, that they had been on a hike, and that her name was Grace Tyson. As they chatted pleasantly, Nathalie told of her recent removal from the city to Westport. With wise forethought she suppressed all mention of her former wealth and the many luxuries she had been used to, for fear that these suburban girls, not comprehending, might misjudge her and think that she considered herself above them. She had learned from the girls of her own set in school that when a newcomer took particular care to advise them how rich she was, her mates usually dubbed her a snob. So she only told of her great loss in the death of her father, how Dick, her older brother, had injured his knee in an accident and was an invalid, and how she liked her new home.

In the companionship of this new girl she scarcely realized how quickly the time had passed until she saw her mother’s anxious face bending over her, and heard a masculine voice say, “Well, is this the young lady who reached too high?”

Nathalie looked quickly up and immediately her heart went out to this big, bluff man with iron-gray hair and kindly blue eyes who picked her up as if she had been a manikin, carried her into the hall, and laid her on the couch. She recognized the face of the doctor who lived on the opposite corner whom she had often envied as he went chugging down the street in his automobile.

After the doctor had pressed her foot here and there with a touch as soft as silk from the gentleness of trained fingers, he brought forth some surgical plaster from a black case, and strapped the injured member, remarking as he did so on the surgeon-like way in which Miss Dame had bandaged it.

After the “exam,” as Dick called it, was over, the doctor explained the case as a few strained ligaments, and said that with care his patient would be able to walk in about a week.