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Updated: June 14, 2025
A dozen yards away a country road connected with the state road that ran through the village of Westhaven. Beyond were a rim of blue hills. "I would not be surprised if we conclude this is the proper location," Miss Frean said reflectively. "There is the disadvantage of being so far from Westhaven.
Still, dear, some of us before we can behold the completed masterpiece, are obliged to consider how we can get a sufficient number of chairs out here to permit the audience to be seated comfortably," Memory Frean interposed. The girl looked at her half challengingly. "I am not so unpractical as you may think.
Memory Frean had come into the room and Mr. Richard Fenton stood immediately behind her. He was watching Tory. "I am afraid I have said too much or too little and perhaps tired or worried you, Kara. If you like, suppose we have a long, quiet talk some day alone. I'll come again to see you and we can go out into the woods together." Conscious of the atmosphere and of his own imprudence, Mr.
"Oh, we have not gone into the idea seriously," Joan Peters returned. Her head was bent over the square frame she held in her lap, her fingers busy with the strands of flax. "Miss Frean comes to camp every few evenings and reads aloud to us. She insists that we are too frivolous in our own summer reading and wishes to read us something we ought to remember." Joan Peters liked Lance McClain.
But Memory Frean, Sheila Mason, her Troop Captain, and her own Girl Scouts might have appreciated the situation. She had been with Kara when the accident took place that might result in the tragedy of her life. Dr. McClain and the two surgeons with whom he consulted could only say there was a possibility of a future recovery.
No one would be present save the Scout Captain and her own Patrol. There was only one other person who would come for half an hour to say good-by, Memory Frean. Fortunately the Fenton house had a bedroom on the first floor, so that Kara could be comfortable without the problem of the stairs. One admirer Kara had acquired without realizing the fact.
Afterwards she and Memory Frean hid behind a shelter, where concealed they could watch the flight of the birds into the garden. Some floated in from outside, others came down from their nests in Miss Frean's own trees to partake of her hospitality. This evening, appearing with the more regular visitors, was a golden-winged warbler, splendid with his conspicuous yellow wing bars.
"You are an angel, Dorothy, to try to be sympathetic with me. You can't know what I am talking about, if I don't myself. There is only one other person in the world to whom I could speak, Miss Frean. When I know better what I am only dreaming of at present I shall confide to her and ask her advice.
Of late Kara frequently showed that she was weary of so much of her society. Moreover, without confessing the fact, Tory appreciated that she was suffering from the strain. She was tired and nervous oftener than she was accustomed to feeling. A quiet talk with Memory Frean and a walk to the House in the Woods would have done her good.
Immediately the Girl Scouts departed for their sleeping tents accompanied by their Troop Captain. Miss Mason would return to say good-night to Kara and see that she was comfortable for the night. In the meantime there was the final evening ceremony with her Girl Scouts. In the big room at present were only Tory, Miss Frean and Mr. Fenton, save for the girl in the wheeled chair. Mr.
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