<h2 id="c5"><br/>CHAPTER V <br/><span class="sc">Mollie’s Suggestion</span></h2>
<p>The trouble with Betty Ashton’s foot
was only a sprained ankle but it
kept her confined for several days
and gave her plenty of time for reflection.
She must of course pay her debts, for she
could not make up her mind to send back
the things she had ordered (self-denial and
Betty had very slight acquaintance with
one another), and besides the disappointment
would not be hers alone but all of the
Sunrise Camp Fire girls.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_62">[62]</div>
<p>For the truth is that Betty and Polly
together had written a Camp Fire play
setting forth some of the ideals of their
organization and they wished to give the
entertainment during Christmas week in
the most beautiful possible fashion. Of
course in the beginning they had assured
Miss McMurtry, who was still a kind of
advisory guardian, and Miss Dyer, that
everything would be very simple and inexpensive,
but naturally their ambitions grew
with each passing day, and with scenery
and costumes to be bought, besides the
gifts and decorations for the Camp Fire
tree, Betty found herself very much involved.
As usual she was bearing the
greater share of the expenses and then,
though no one outside the Camp Fire club
except Dick Ashton knew of it, Betty had
been giving a part of her allowance each
week so that Esther Clark might have singing
lessons with the best possible teacher in
Woodford. Not that the relation between
Betty and Esther had seriously changed.
The older girl still felt toward Betty the
same adoring and self-sacrificing devotion,
still considered her the most beautiful and
charming person in the world and that her
careless generosity lifted her above every
one else, while, though to do Betty Ashton
credit, she was entirely unconscious of it,
her attitude toward Esther was just the
least little bit condescending. Esther was
so plain and awkward and particularly she
lacked the birth and breeding Betty considered
so essential, but then she was fond
of her and did want Esther to have her
chance—this chance she felt must lie in the
cultivation of her beautiful voice.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_63">[63]</div>
<p>So that when Betty, unable to make up
her mind what had best be done, determined
to consult with the girls, it was to her old
friends, Mollie and Polly O’Neill, that she
turned rather than to Esther. She had
been unusually quiet one evening, although
insisting that her ankle was entirely well.
Suddenly, however, she plead fatigue and
with a little gesture, which both girls understood
as a signal, asked that Mollie and
Polly come and help her get ready for bed.</p>
<p>When Betty was finally undressed, she
sat bolt upright in her cot with her cheeks
flushed and her gray eyes shining. So
unusually pretty did she appear that Polly,
who never ceased to admire her, even when
she happened to be angry, set a silver paper
crown upon her head. The crown was a
part of their Christmas stage property and
not intended for Betty, but now Polly
stood a few feet away and clasped her
hands together from sheer admiration, while
Mollie, who was usually undemonstrative,
leaned over and kissed her friend’s cheek
before settling herself at the foot of the bed.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_64">[64]</div>
<p>“You certainly are lovely, Princess, and
so is Mollie for that matter,” Polly exclaimed,
generously seating herself opposite
her sister. Betty happened to be wearing
a heavy blue silk dressing jacket over her
gown and her auburn hair hung in two
heavy braids, one over each shoulder.
Her forehead was low and she had delicate
level brows. But just now Betty flushed
scarlet and frowned, for whatever her other
faults she was not vain.</p>
<p>“Please don’t call me Princess, Polly,
dear,” she urged, taking off her paper crown
and surveying it rather ruefully, “because
I am in truth only a paper princess to-night.
You have told me a hundred times,
Polly, child, that you thought I ought
to know the sensation of being poor like
other people, that I needed it for my
education. Well, I do at last, for I have
bought a lot of things for Christmas that I
can’t pay for, as mother writes she can’t
let me have any extra money.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_65">[65]</div>
<p>Betty’s expression, however, was not
half so serious as that of her two friends
as she made this confession. For the
girls had also heard the rumor which had
troubled Rose Dyer in regard to Mr.
Ashton’s possible change of fortune, and
knew that Betty did not in the least understand
the gravity of her mother’s refusal.</p>
<p>Polly positively shivered. Betty poor!
It was impossible to imagine! Yet what,
after all, did the supposed loss of a few
thousand dollars mean to a man of Mr.
Ashton’s wealth.</p>
<p>Polly patted Betty’s hand sympathetically.
“Debt is the most horrible thing
in the world, isn’t it? I haven’t forgotten
how I felt when I was in your debt last
summer, Betty, and took such a horrid way
to get out of it.”</p>
<p>“Maybe you had better send back
what you have bought,” suggested the
more practical Mollie, making the same
suggestion as their guardian.</p>
<p>But at this Betty and Polly glanced at one
another despairingly. “Give up making
their Camp Fire play a success?” For
this is what it would mean should Betty
have to send back her purchases!</p>
<p>“How much do you owe, dear?” Polly
next inquired in a crushed voice.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_66">[66]</div>
<p>And at this Betty drew the same sheets
of complex figures out from under her
pillow. “It is a hundred and fifty dollars,
I can’t make it any less,” she confessed.
“That sounds pretty dreadful doesn’t it,
when you have not a single cent to pay
with, though I never thought one hundred
and fifty dollars so very much before. Of
course I could save something out of my
allowance every month, but not very much,
and father would not like me to ask people
to wait.”</p>
<p>“Can’t you give up something besides
the Christmas present from your mother
which you were <i>not</i> going to have?” Mollie
inquired so seriously and with such a horrified
expression over the amount of her
friend’s indebtedness, and such an entire
disregard for the Irishness of her speech,
that both the other girls laughed in spite
of their worry. Mollie’s pretty face showed
no answering smiles in return, nor did she
take the least interest in the reason for
their laughter. For it was not her way to
be interrupted by their perfectly idle merriment.</p>
<p>“But haven’t you, Betty?” she repeated.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_67">[67]</div>
<p>And Betty leaned her chin on her hands.
“I have my piano,” she replied slowly,
“but I can’t sell that because then Esther
would have no chance to practice, and we
could never half enjoy our Camp Fire songs
without.”</p>
<p>Both the other girls shook their heads.
Giving up the piano <i>was</i> out of the question.</p>
<p>For a moment longer there was silence
and then Betty’s cheeks flushed again.
“I have got some things I suppose I can
part with, though I rather hate to,” she
confessed. “I don’t know whether mother
and father would like it, but then they
would not like my being in debt. In a
safety box in the bank in town I have some
jewelry I never wear because mother thinks
it too handsome for a girl of my age. Father
and Dick have given it to me at different
times. I suppose somebody would tell
me how to dispose of at least a part of it.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_68">[68]</div>
<p>And although both Polly and Mollie at
first strenuously objected to Betty’s suggestion,
it was finally decided that Betty and
Polly should drive into Woodford on the
following Saturday morning without saying
anything to any one else and bring the
safety box back with them. Then they
could talk the matter over and find out
what Betty could dispose of with the least
regret. Her ankle was now well enough
for her to make the trip in their sleigh without
difficulty.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_69">[69]</div>
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