she had purchased thirty yards of old blue and
rose cretonne, perhaps with the knowledge that beauty even of the
simplest kind helps one to happiness and accomplishment.

Therefore the two couches in the sitting-room were covered with the
cretonne, and half a dozen box chairs; and there were cretonne valances
at the windows.

Save a single old lamp which had been left in the sitting-room, it had
no other ornaments.

The lamp was of bronze and bore the figure of a genie holding the stand,
so that obviously it had been christened "Aladdin's lamp." It was
supposed to gratify whatever wish one expressed, but the Camp Fire girls
were too busy with the interests of other people at present to spend
much time in considering their personal desires.

There was one other object of interest in the room, a large photograph
of the ruined Rheims Cathedral, which Mrs. Burton had bought in the
neighborhood of Rheims not long before. The classic French city was not
many miles from the present home of the group of American girls.

As beautiful almost in destruction as it had been in its former glory,
the photograph stood as a symbol of the imperishable beauty of French
art. Also it represented another symbol. Here on the white wooden mantel
of the French farm house "on the field of honor" it called to the
American people to continue their work for the relief and the
restoration of France.

Tonight as she lay resting upon one of the couches, dressed in a simple
dinner dress of some soft violet material, Mrs. Burton had glanced
several times toward the photograph.

As a tribute to her headache and a general disinclination to associate
with her companions, Sally had been permitted to occupy the other couch
which stood on the opposite side of the room.

In their one large chair, close to the table with the lamp, Aunt
Patricia sat knitting with her usual vigor and determination. Aside from
Sally, the Camp Fire girls were grouped about near her.

After having been quiet for the past half hour, Mrs. Burton suddenly
asked: "Would any of you care to hear a poem concerning the destruction
of the Cathedral at Rheims, written by a Kentucky woman? A friend sent
it to me and it was so exquisite I have lately memorized it. In the last
few moments while I have been looking at our photograph I have repeated
the lines to myself. I wonder if it would interest you?"

The girls replied in a chorus of acquiescence, but Mrs. Burton did not
venture