The Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows

by Margaret Vandercook

  CHAPTER XIV Mollie's Confidant

  Of her visit to Miss Adams, Polly never afterwards spoke, except to Bettyand her sister Mollie, asking that they tell Rose Dyer that it was rightthat she as their guardian should know and promising to write her mother;however, several of the other Camp Fire girls believed that they saw aslight change in Polly dating from her visit. Afterwards she never seemedto give up, at least without some struggle, to her old, utterlyunreasonable changes of mood.

  To Betty and Mollie, however, Polly confessed that, although Miss Adamshad been kind beyond her wildest dreams, she had not said that she hadseen any evidences of genius or even of marked ability in her interrupteddramatic efforts; although she had suggested that only the mostremarkable people the world has ever known have betrayed exceptionalgifts at the age of sixteen, that most people only achieve success byendless patience, faith and work and by what sometimes looks at firstlike failure. She had then told Polly something of her own earlystruggle, but this Polly of course did not reveal even to her sister anddearest friend. However, to Mollie's relief, she did announce that shemeant to spend the next two years in doing everything she could for herhealth by obeying every single Camp Fire rule, that she meant to learnmore self-control, to study harder and also to memorize all the plays andpoems that she possibly could. For at the close of her graduation at theHigh School the wonderful Miss Adams had asked that Polly write her andthen if her mother was willing, if Polly was well and of the same desire,she would see that she had an opportunity for the kind of study she wouldthen need should she adopt the stage for her profession. For the truth isthat though the great actress had not been particularly impressed byPolly's acting she had discovered two things about her, one that she hadthe expressive face with quick mobile features and the graceful carriagemore to be desired on the stage than either beauty or stateliness and,moreover, like most other people, she had taken a decided fancy to thegirl herself.

  For a few weeks following Polly's famous interview her sister Molliefound herself and Polly farther apart in sympathy than they had ever beenbefore in their lives. Under nearly all other circumstances Mollie hadalways allowed herself to be influenced by her twin sister's wishes;Polly had always seemed to want things so much harder than other peoplethat she and her mother had usually been willing enough to give in, butnow on this question of Polly's going upon the stage after she hadfinished her education Mollie made up her mind to stand firm in heropposition at every possible opportunity, even if her mother should givein to Polly's persuasion. It was utterly impossible for Mollie O'Neill tounderstand her twin sister's restlessness and ambition. How could sheever wish to leave her home and mother, to leave _her_, to follow aftersuch a will-o'-the-wisp?

  It was in vain that Polly explained that it was no lack of affection onher part, that she surely loved her own people as much as they could loveher, but that she felt she must see more of the world, live a wider lifethan Woodford could give her. Mollie was always obdurate. There was onlyone way by which Polly could silence her twin and that was to inquire ifMollie meant always to stay at home, to remain an old maid? And whenMollie most indignantly denied any such suggestion, Polly would then askhow if she loved them could she make up her mind to go away from home onaccount of a strange man, and if a career wasn't as good as a husband,until Mollie became too indignant and unhappy for argument and usually bymaking no further replies carried off the honors of war.

  If only Mollie could have had another girl to unbosom herself to, butthere was no one; Polly had asked her not to discuss her affairs with anyone of the Camp Fire girls except Betty Ashton, and Betty openlysympathized with Polly. Having no gifts herself she used to say that allshe could do would be to live in the successes of Polly and Esther;although Polly used always to assure her in return that a Princess wasabove the possession of small abilities like ordinary mortals, and Estherthat she never expected to have any success beyond learning to sing wellenough to make her own living and perhaps some day to have a position ina Woodford church choir.

  So Mollie for the month succeeding Christmas kept most of her worry toherself, and to the entire Sunrise Camp Fire club's surprise andconsternation grew quite unlike her usually sweet-tempered, happy self.Sometimes she used to insist upon taking the daily exercise prescribed bythe Camp Fire rules entirely alone, if she were allowed, in order thatshe might think up some possible way of influencing Polly to give up herwholly foolish ambition. Since Polly felt that she must do somethingtoward supporting her mother and herself, she should try to learn to be ateacher like Miss McMurtry or Miss Mary Adams.

  One Saturday afternoon, being particularly low in her mind because RoseDyer had thought Polly not very well and had suggested that she stay athome and take her walk outside the cabin with the newest Camp Fire girl,Mollie had deliberately stolen off while her friends were getting readyfor a hard tramp through the woods. She did not care at the time thattheir guardian might object to her going off alone. She almost hoped thatsomething might happen to her to make Polly feel uneasy. Since Polly wasalways making her perfectly miserable why she might as well experiencethe sensation occasionally herself. So, knowing that the other girls wereto strike out through the pine woods, find the road and walk over towardthe asylum to escort Esther home (who was now having a weekly musiclesson with Herr Crippen), Mollie first walked back of the cabin and thenfound the road through the Webster farm. She didn't walk very farhowever. It was perfectly ridiculous of her of course to anticipatetrouble, and yet somehow she felt that she and Polly were never going tobe just the same that they had been in the past to one another, in someway they would be separated. Suddenly Mollie felt a wave of homesickness,of longing for her mother such as she had not felt since the first fewweeks after Mrs. O'Neill's sailing for Ireland the spring before. Soquite unmindful of consequences Mollie dropped down on the stump of atree, deliberately giving herself up to the enjoyment of tears. It was soutterly impossible ever to cry at the cabin. Some one was always aboutseeing you and besides all the other Camp Fire girls Mollie solemnlybelieved to have outgrown the foolish weakness of crying, it was soutterly in contradiction to all their training.

  The tears, however, must have been extremely near the surface, since theydried so instantly, and Mollie jumped to her feet indignantly when a hardball of snow went whizzing past her ear, almost striking her. A momentlater she heard footsteps coming up behind her.

  "Hope you won't mind my appearing to pay off old scores in this way; Ireally had no idea of hitting you, but I had to attract your attention insome fashion, so you wouldn't run away from me," said a voice Mollieimmediately recognized and a moment later Billy Webster appeared by herside. "Would any one in the world except Miss Polly O'Neill seat herselfcalmly on a stump in the midst of the winter woods with nothing but snowand ice all about her as if she were in the lap of spring?" he asked. Andthen, when Mollie made no answer and catching just a side glance at herdowncast face, he puckered his lips as though intending to whistle, butbetter manners prevailing said as sympathetically as he could: "Dear me,Miss Polly, you look as though you were desperately unhappy oversomething or other. What is it that is troubling you this time?"

  Mollie was wearing a long brown coat exactly like Polly's red one and herbrown tam-o'-shanter she had pulled down as low as possible over her facebecause of the cold January wind, but now she turned with someindignation toward her companion. "I am not Polly," she announced with agood deal of vexation (the twin sisters never liked being taken for oneanother). "I am sorry, but I suppose Polly hasn't a monopoly of all thetrouble in this world. Or at least she very often passes it on to otherpeople."

  Instantly Billy's fur cap was off, showing his heavy hair, which wasbrowner than during the months of exposure to the summer sun, butalthough his face was also less tanned, his eyes were as blue and as fullof humor as ever.

  "It is I who am sorry and glad too, Miss Mollie," he answered asgallantly as possible. "It seems to be my fate e
verlastingly to put myfoot in it with both you and your sister. I could have sworn not long agothat I would never again mistake you for one another and here I am at itagain. But you will forgive me this time. You see you don't look quitelike yourself to-day; you are so much paler and kind of uncertainlooking--and cross. But now I beg the other Miss O'Neill's pardon," andBilly laughed, not so much as though he cared a great deal about havingmade fun of Polly, but more in order to cheer up Mollie.

  "Better not let Polly hear you say that," she returned, smiling a little."You know, like the tiger in 'Little Black Sambo,' she would have to eatyou up. But Polly is really a great deal better tempered than I am andsweeter than anything nowadays; ask anybody in camp. It is I who am thecross one. And it is all because I am so unhappy."

  And then, to Mollie's own surprise and Billy's decided embarrassment, shebegan crying a great deal harder than before.

  There was nothing a fellow could do but just to stand there and watch herfor a moment and then Billy had a feeble inspiration. He tucked her armthrough his comfortingly. "Come, it is getting dark, these days are sodreadfully short. Let me walk on back to the cabin with you."

  And on the way Mollie discovered herself unexpectedly confidingeverything that troubled her about her sister to this comparativelyunknown boy friend. Although the Camp Fire girls had seen more of BillyWebster than any one else because of their living so near his father'sfarm. For the first few minutes Mollie felt she might regret heroutburst, but not for long, for to her satisfaction and indeed to hervery real consolation, Billy felt exactly as she did about Polly. It wasutterly absurd for Polly to talk about going away from Woodford even tostudy for the stage; she was not strong enough; the life was a perfectlyabominable one for a lady, but for a delicate high-strung girl like PollyO'Neill it was worse than absurd; it was wicked! Mollie should write forher mother to come home to prevent Polly's getting the idea more firmlyfixed in her mind. Later on it might be more difficult to influence her.Billy Webster fairly spluttered with indignation. His mother was aperfect farmer's wife, devoted to her husband, to her son and a youngerdaughter, and to the life and work of her farm and very naturally Billy'smother was his ideal. He liked the two O'Neill girls very much, had knownof their struggle to get along and of their mother's efforts to give theman education, and believed, like Mollie, that it was ungrateful of Pollyto wish to leave her home so soon as she was grown up. Besides he did notlike to see Mollie so worried! What a strangely difficult person Pollywas! There were times when he felt that he almost hated her and thenagain she was rather fascinating.

  "I have got about half as much influence with your sister as that totempole," he announced, when he had brought Mollie almost back to theSunrise cabin, "but if there is anything I can ever do to help you makeher change her mind, why count on me up to the limit. Don't you think thebest thing would be somehow to joke the whole idea out of her? She isjust the kind of a person to be more influenced by joking than any realopposition."

  Mollie bowed her head in entire agreement. "Yes, but what kind of a jokecould we ever think up that could have anything to do with Polly'swishing to be an actress and meaning to study several years from now?"she inquired doubtfully.

  And to do Billy Webster credit he did look considerably confused.

  "Well, I can't say right off," he confessed, laughing a little athimself, "but if you and I think things over for a week or so, perhaps aninspiration may come to one or the other of us. And in the meantime," headded this rather hastily, "I wouldn't mention to your sister that youhave spoken of her plans to me. It is all right though, for I shall neverbreathe what you have told me to any one."