CHAPTER XII THE SPIRIT OF A PRINCESS
"O Nyoda, it _can't_ be true!"
Sahwah's anguished wail cut across the stricken silence of the room.
The eminent surgeon had just made his examination of Sylvia andpronounced the verdict that had sent all their rosy air castles tumblingabout their ears: "Nothing can be done. An operation would be useless. Itis not a case of a splintered vertebra which could be patched. The nerveswhich control the limbs are paralyzed. She will never walk again."
The last five words fell upon their ears like the tolling of a sorrowfulbell. "She will never walk again." Stunned by the unexpected verdict theWinnebagos stood mutely about Sylvia in anguished sympathy.
She lay motionless on the sofa, a white-faced, pitiful little ghost of aprincess; her glad animation gone, her radiance extinguished, her songstricken upon her lips.
"O why did you tell me?" she wailed. "Why did you tell me I could becured, when I never can? Why didn't you leave me as I was? I was happythen, because I had never hoped to get well. But since you told me I'vebeen planning so----" Her voice broke off and she lay back in silentmisery.
"Now I can never be a Camp Fire Girl!" she cried a moment later, hergrief breaking out afresh. "I can never go camping! I can never help AuntAggie!" All the joyful bubbles her fancy had blown in the last two daysburst one by one before her eyes, each stabbing her with a fresh pang."I'll never be any use in the world; I wish I were dead!" she criedwildly, her rising grief culminating in an outburst of black despair.
"Oh, yes, you can too be a Camp Fire Girl," said Nyoda soothingly. "Youcan do lots of things the other girls can do--and some they can't. Thereisn't any part of the Law you can't fulfill. You can Seek Beauty, andGive Service, and Pursue Knowledge, and Be Trustworthy, and Hold on toHealth, and Glorify Work, and Be Happy! Campfire isn't just a matter ofhikes and meetings. It's a spirit that lives inside of you and makes lifeone long series of Joyous Ventures. You can kindle the Torch in yourinvalid's chair as well as you could out in the big, busy world, and passit on to others."
"How can I?" asked Sylvia wonderingly.
"In many ways," answered Nyoda, "but chiefly by being happy yourself.Even if you never did anything else but be happy, you would be doing auseful piece of work in the world. Just sing as gayly as you used to, andeveryone who hears you will be brighter and happier for your song. If youcannot do great deeds yourself, you may inspire others to do them. Whatdoes it matter who does things, as long as they are done? If you haveencouraged someone else to do something big and fine, all on account ofyour happy spirit, it is just as well as if you had done the thingyourself. Did you ever hear the line,
'All service ranks the same with God,'?
"Sylvia, dear, you have the power to make people glad with your song.That is the way you will pass on the Torch. You already have your symbol;you chose it when you began to hero-worship Sylvia Warrington, and lovedher because she was like a lark singing in the desert at dawning. That isthe symbol you have taken for yourself--the lark that sings in thedesert. Little Lark-that-sings-in-the-Desert, you will kindle the Torchwith your song! Instead of being a Guide Torchbearer, or a Torchbearer inCraftsmanship, you will become a Torchbearer in Happiness!"
With these words of hope and encouragement Nyoda left her sorrowfullittle princess to the quiet rest which she needed after the fatiguingexamination by the surgeon. Going into Hinpoha's room she found her lyingface downward on the bed in an agony of remorse, her red curls tumbledabout her shoulders.
"I told her, I told her," she cried out to Nyoda with burningself-condemnation. "I couldn't keep my mouth shut till the proper time; Ihad to go and tell her two days ahead. If I'd only waited till we weresure she would never have had her heart set on it so. Oh, I'll neverforgive myself." She beat on the pillow with her clenched fist andwrithed under the lash of her self scorn. For once she was not in tears;her misery was far deeper than that. "I didn't mean to tell her that day,Nyoda, I knew you'd asked us to keep it a secret, but it just slipped outbefore I thought."
"Hinpoha, dear," said Nyoda, sitting down on the bed beside her andspeaking seriously, "will it always be like this with you? Willeverything slip out 'before you thought'? Will you never learn to thinkbefore you speak? Will you be forever like a sieve? Must we alwayshesitate to speak a private matter out in front of you, because we knowit will be all over the town an hour later? Are you going to be the onlyone of the Winnebagos who can't keep a secret?"
Hinpoha's heart came near to breaking. Those were the severest wordsNyoda had ever spoken to her. Yet Nyoda did not say them severely. Hertone was gentle, and her hand stroked the dishevelled red curls as shespoke; but what she said pierced Hinpoha's heart like a knife. A visionof herself came up as she must seem to others--a rattle brained creaturewho couldn't keep anything to herself if her life depended upon it. Howthe others must despise her! Now she despised herself! Above all, howNyoda must despise her--Nyoda, who always said the right thing at theright time, and whose tongue never got her into trouble! Nyoda might havenothing more to do with such a tattle tale! In her anguish she groanedaloud.
"Don't you see," went on Nyoda earnestly, "what suffering you bring uponyourself as well as upon other people by just not thinking? You couldescape all that if you acquired a little discretion."
"Oh, I'll never tell anything again!" Hinpoha cried vehemently. "I'llkeep my lips tight shut, I'll sew them shut. I won't be like a sieve. Youcan tell all the secrets in front of me you like, they'll be safe. Oh,don't say you'll never tell me any more secrets!" she said pleadingly."Just try me and see!"
"Certainly I'll keep on telling you secrets," said Nyoda, "because Ibelieve they really will be safe after this." She saw the depth of woeinto which Hinpoha had been plunged and knew that the bitter experiencehad taught her a lesson in discretion she would not soon forget. Poorimpulsive, short-sighted Hinpoha! How her tongue was forever tripping herup, and what agonies of remorse she suffered afterward!
Hinpoha uncovered one eye and saw Nyoda looking at her with the sameloving, friendly glance as always, and cast herself impulsively upon hershoulder. "You'll see how discreet I can be!" she murmured humbly.
Nyoda smiled down at her and held her close for a minute.
"Listen!" she said. From the room where Sylvia lay there came the soundof a song. It began falteringly at first and choked off several times,but went bravely on, gaining in power, until the merry notes filled thehouse. The indomitable little spirit had fought its battle with gloom andcome out victorious.
"The spirit of a princess!" Nyoda exclaimed admiringly. "Sylvia is of thetrue blood royal; she knows that the thoroughbred never whimpers; it isonly the low born who cry out when hurt."
"Gee, listen to that!" exclaimed Slim, sitting in the library with Sherryand the other two boys, when Sylvia's song rang through the house, braveand clear. The four looked at each other, and the eyes of each held atribute for the brave little singer. Sherry stood up and saluted, asthough in the presence of a superior officer.
"She ought to have a Distinguished Valor Cross," he said, "forconspicuous bravery under fire."
"Pluckiest little kid I ever saw!" declared Slim feelingly, and then blewa violent blast on his nose.
"Sing a cheer!" called Sahwah, and the Winnebagos lined up in the halloutside Sylvia's door and sang to her with a vigor that made the windowsrattle:
"Oh, Sylvia, here's to you, Our hearts will e'er be true, We will never find your equal Though we search the whole world through!"