CHAPTER IV A New Girl
There was an instant of waiting, then a little cry quickly suppressed.Soon after Dan could be heard returning.
But when he appeared he was half leading, half carrying, a girl of aboutfifteen or sixteen who did not look like a formidable intruder. She wassmall and her face was pale; at the moment her lips were pressed tightlytogether. Yet, in spite of her effort at self-control, her eyes were fullof tears, either of anger, embarrassment or pain.
Yet, although Dan was resolutely holding her to the duty of facing theCamp Fire party, he was perfectly gentle. It would have been impossiblefor him to be otherwise.
Immediately Mrs. Burton walked forward. There was something about thegirl that attracted her. She was not pretty; her features were tooirregular; she had a long nose a little crooked, a wide mouth, and herchin was too sharply pointed for the breadth of her brow. But her eyeswere a fascinating grey-green with extremely dark brows and lashes, andher hair was reddish brown.
"I am sorry," the Camp Fire guardian began quickly. "Dan and I must bothhave been mistaken in thinking you the person we were seeking. But youmust forgive my nephew, the fault was mine. I was under the impressionthat some one was spying upon us, and who, for some absurd reason, wasnot willing to be discovered."
The girl shook her head. "You were not mistaken. I have been watchingyou--or trying to--since early this morning. And I hate your havingdiscovered me."
She spoke quietly in a soft but at the same time throaty voice, as if shewere a little hoarse.
Polly Burton was puzzled and yet it was stupid of her to have been. Itwas true that here in the West in the past few months, living outdoorswith her group of Camp Fire girls, she had honestly forgotten a number offacts about herself.
"I don't understand."
But at this instant, murmuring something or other in apology, Dan Webstermoved a few steps aside.
The girl turned her head.
"Don't let go your hold on me," she said almost angrily.
Again Dan held out his arm and this time the girl clutched it.
Dan's face was crimson; he felt the whole situation to be extraordinarilyawkward. He was not quick either in thought or action and undoubtedly hewas confused by the words and the behavior of the girl who had been hisprisoner a few moments before. Now she held on to him as if she dared notlet go. He could feel her hand trembling on his arm and indeed her wholebody was shaking.
Then Dan gave an inward sigh of relief, seeing that his mother wasapproaching them.
"You have hurt yourself, haven't you, child?" she began in a sensiblecomfortable fashion. "I presume you were merely curious about my sisterand our Camp Fire proceedings. I know the information has gone out overthe neighborhood that we wished to be left to ourselves. You understandmy sister has to see so many people when she is playing that she has letit be known she wishes to meet nobody here. If you have been trying tosee her without being observed, she must remember a time, which does notseem so long ago to me, when she was only a stage-struck girl herself.There, take my arm and let Dan help you to my tent."
The girl had looked unhappy at the beginning of Mrs. Webster's speech,but before the close she laughed a little uncertainly.
"I am afraid _that is_ true," she returned. "In any case I owe you anapology, Mrs. Burton." She had dropped the lids over her eyes to hide herchagrin, but she went on honestly. "I suppose I am a stage-struck girl,although I do not like hearing myself called one. But I did come overhere this morning at daylight for a look at your camp. Of course I neverdreamed of seeing you. But when you started for your walk I did go alongnear you, as I did not suppose you would either see or hear me. But itwas wonderful just to be so near you!"
In the meantime Peggy Webster had slipped forward and now stood alongsideher aunt.
"Don't be hateful, Tante," she whispered warningly, knowing fromexperience that her aunt's good nature was not always to be relied uponunder trying circumstances. Moreover she had forgotten, as ninety-ninepeople out of a hundred do, when they arrive at distinction, how she hadfelt toward famous persons in her own youth.
But on this occasion Peggy need not have been uneasy.
The new girl was evidently of gentle breeding in spite of the shabbinessof her attire and the fact that she was rather more plain than goodlooking.
"Nonsense, child, it is oftentimes distinctly disagreeable to be near me,as my Camp Fire girls may tell you. But come and have breakfast with us,if you really have been prowling about since daylight as I have. I amdreadfully hungry."
She started away with Peggy, expecting the others to follow. Either Mrs.Burton had not heard her sister's speech, or else believed that herbeloved Mollie was only fussing over the newcomer's health as she didover everybody's.
"Thank you, I would rather not be troublesome," the new girl answered.
At this she let go Dan's arm and took a step forward. But the pain ofwalking alone was too great for her self-control.
As people always did in disaster she turned to Mrs. Webster.
"I fear I have hurt myself and it is so stupid of me. Really I don't knowwhat to do. You see I did not want to be discovered and when I heard someone coming after me I started to run. I must have tripped and fallen overa stump in the underbrush. As soon as I got up I was a prisoner."
She flashed a peculiar glance at Dan Webster; but whether she was angryor amused over his discomfiture it was difficult to decide. Yet Danlooked wretched enough to satisfy the most teasing desire for revenge. Hehad the sweetest and most chivalrous temper in the world. No one everremembered Dan's deliberately hurting any one in his life. Now heundoubtedly felt as if he had caused a perfectly innocent girl to doherself a painful injury and had afterwards treated her with unpardonablerudeness. But it was not difficult to make Dan Webster feel himself inthe wrong, both his sister Peggy, and his twin brother, frequently takingadvantage of this trait of his character.
"You are not a prisoner in any sense," Mrs. Webster replied, speakingmore coldly, and appreciating Dan's embarrassment. "But if you are hurtwe shall be glad to do what we can for you and some one will drive youback to your home."
More humbly the girl then took hold of Mrs. Webster's proffered arm, andstill holding on to Dan, started toward Mrs. Webster's tent not manyyards away.
In a curious fashion Dan felt that, in spite of her pretense of anger,the girl by his side felt a reliance upon him. And for some reason hecould not explain he was interested in her. She was not half so pretty asmany of the Camp Fire girls--Sally Ashton and Gerry Williams forinstance. Yet there was something fascinating in her grey-green eyes, inher long nose with that funny twist at the end of it, and in theuncertainty of her behavior.
Naturally Dan thought it ridiculous of the strange girl to have beenhiding about in their neighborhood for the very ordinary pleasure ofbeholding his famous aunt.
Dan did not take Mrs. Burton or her fame as an actress seriously. Indeed,unconsciously he had inherited some of his father's old prejudice againstwomen in any kind of public life. He was fond of his aunt, but not asPeggy was, or even his brother, Billy. For, although Billy did not bestowmuch affection upon any human being, except his mother and Vera Lageloff,he admired Mrs. Burton, was proud of her success, and was really moreinfluenced by her opinion than any one's else.
The new girl walked with difficulty, but Dan could not help admiring herpluck. Ordinarily her skin was sallow but it was an odd greenish-white atpresent.
Outside his mother's tent Dan departed to find Ellen Deal.
Since the arrival of the Sunrise Camp Fire girls in Arizona, Ellen Dealhad had but few opportunities for the display of her usefulness as atrained nurse. She had not graduated in nursing, since a breakdown inhealth had prevented her from finishing the last year of training. Butshe was older than the other Camp Fire girls and had come West with thembecause of Dr. Sylvia Wharton's request made to her half sister andalways her beloved friend, Polly O'N
eill, or Mrs. Richard Burton.
The call to the sick, however, with Ellen was like the call to arms witha soldier.
Fifteen minutes later, when Dan was finishing a belated breakfast, Ellenreappeared and sat down beside him. The next moment he saw the new girlcome out of his mother's tent with her assistance and drop down on acushion outside.
"Nothing serious the matter, as far as I can tell," Ellen announced inthe business-like manner which seems to be considered professional."Nevertheless I would like to have a doctor if one can be found over atthe hotel or anywhere nearby. Our unexpected visitor has bruised andstrained her knee and it may be worse than I think."
"Dan won't you take your victim, or our victim, her breakfast," Mrs.Burton suggested, smiling and yet looking sympathetic. Having finishedher own breakfast she and Peggy had arranged a breakfast tray for theiruninvited guest.
"Sit here, Dan," his mother announced a few moments later on his arrivalbefore her tent. Then she hurried away to her own meal.
Dan sat silently watching the new girl.
She was evidently trying to show self-control. Yet it seemed impossiblefor her to choke the breakfast down, in spite of the fact that Sally hadmade new corn bread especially for her. Her lips kept twitching andfinally the tears ran unchecked down her face.
"I am sorry you are in such pain," Dan said gently, and there wassomething very attractive in his gentleness, combined as it was with hisbeauty and strength. "I'll find a doctor for you in a little while."
To his surprise his companion again turned upon him angrily.
"I am not crying because I am in pain. I am not quite so ridiculous."Then her nose twitched in a funny fashion and she added with the hoarsenote in her voice which was so unusual, "I am crying because I am sucha--such a fool."
In spite of his wish to be sympathetic, Dan laughed.
"Oh, that is a common enough experience."
But the girl shook her head.
"No," she answered quietly, "there are a good many foolish people in theworld, I know, but there are degrees. It seems to me I am the mosthopeless kind." She turned her eyes full upon Dan and curiously he wasreminded of certain pools in his own New Hampshire woods on a soft greyday.
"My name is Marta Clark. I meant to tell you before. My brother and I arehere living in a tent not far away from your camp--a few miles I believe.My brother broke down in health and we had to come out here because ofhim. He is still very ill and I have been taking care of him. If I can'teven hobble about for a few days I don't know what is to become of us.Besides he has not the faintest idea where I am. I realized he would notallow me to prowl about trying to see Mrs. Burton if he knew, although heand I had talked of her being here. We had seen her act once and adoredher."
"Oh, you'll find some one able to look after him for a few days wellenough," Dan replied, not viewing the matter as seriously as his newacquaintance did.
Again the girl flashed what seemed to be an angry glance toward him.
"I don't enjoy your forcing me to confess the fact," she went on, "but mybrother and I are desperately poor--far too poor to hire any one to takecare of us, even for a few days. He was working and taking care of me,and when his illness came we had almost nothing. He was only a reporteron a paper and I was at school."
"Nevertheless," said Dan firmly, "I am sure we shall manage in some wayto have you cared for until you are all right again."
The girl's face cleared, and Dan noticed that she had a rather care-wornlook which her words had just explained.
"I don't know why I should feel it when we are utter strangers, but youdo look as if you could make things happen the way they should. I supposeit is because you are strong and patient. I am neither of those things."
But they could not go on talking because, at this moment, the Camp Fireguardian was coming toward them.