“As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free.”
In such a state of cheerfulness time flew swiftly, and soon Nathalie was up in the attic writing a note. Yes, it sounded all right, she decided as she read it over slowly. And then her hand was again flying over the paper, and another note was written, and then another, and still another, until, with a sigh of relief, Nathalie found that she had them all finished. No, she wasn’t going to leave any one out. Quickly gathering up the notes the girl was off, running lightly down the stairs, and then flying swiftly across the lawn to see what Helen would think of the thing she had planned in the stillness of the night.
CHAPTER III
THE LIBERTY GIRLS
“Yes, we must prove that we have the true spirit of liberty, the spirit of humanity,” Nathalie spoke very earnestly, “and that is why I have asked Marie Katzkamof to belong to the club. She is the little lame girl, you know who she is; she sits at the news-stand on the corner of Main and West streets, and sells the papers when her father is at business. She is always knitting—sweaters for the soldiers, she says. It makes me feel ashamed when I realize how hard she works to do her ‘little bit.’”
“You are right, Nathalie,” replied Helen thoughtfully, “for you have struck something big in your idea that we are all Americans, and that the club should be free to all. But hurry over, and see what Mrs. Morrow has to say. I believe she’ll think the whole scheme is fine.”
But Nathalie was already at the door, her brown eyes sparkling with suppressed excitement, and her cheeks flushed with the soft pink that all the girls admired, and some envied. And then she was making her way across the road to the white house on the corner, still softly humming,
“As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free.”
The Tuesday that Nathalie had designated in her notes to the invited girls had arrived, and the girl, somewhat pale from nervousness, was standing before a small table in the living-room of her home. Facing her were a dozen or more girls, all more or less in an attitude of expectant interest as they sat, some on chairs, others on the couch in the hall, while the Pioneers, as was their wont when chairs were limited, were seated in a circle on the floor.
“Now, girls,” cried Nathalie, determined to plunge ahead and get the thing started before her enthusiasm and nerves collapsed to a frazzle, as she told Helen afterward, “I have asked you all here to-day, to form a club in the interest of liberty. The Girl Pioneers know just how big a thing liberty is, for they had the pleasure of hearing Mrs. Morrow, our Pioneer director, in her little talk on liberty. Oh, Lillie Bell, would you mind repeating what you remember of Mrs. Morrow’s speech?” Nathalie broke off abruptly, turning towards that young lady, one of the most popular of the Pioneer girls. “I know you have a good memory, Lillie,” Nathalie pleaded, “and are such a good elocutionist that you can do it better than any one else I know.”