police had disappeared without requiring a great deal
of persuasion, for the second time Vera followed her unknown companion
upstairs.

"You understand, child, it would have been the greatest interruption to
our present plans if I had not permitted the thief to escape. Some one
would have had to appear in court and doubtless Polly Burton would have
had newspaper reporters coming to the house at all hours. They would
have liked a story in which a woman of her prominence played a part."

Fifteen minutes later, having presented the unexpected guest with the
tea she had requested, Vera was sitting beside the tea table waiting to
satisfy her further needs, when she caught the sound of a key being
turned in the lock of the front door downstairs and the next instant
Mrs. Burton's voice, followed by Bettina Graham's, calling for her.

With a hurried apology and really fearful that her autocratic companion
might attempt to detain her, Vera ran out of the room.

Over the banisters she could see Bettina Graham, who had just arrived
from Washington, and Mrs. Burton, who had gone down to the Pennsylvania
station to meet her.

Standing near Bettina was a girl whom Vera had never seen before.

As soon as she joined them Bettina introduced her explaining:

"Vera, this is Mary Gilchrist, who is going abroad to drive a motor in
France. She had no friends with whom she could cross, and as we were
intending to sail on the same steamer, I suggested when we met in
Washington the other day that she might like to join our Camp Fire unit.
At the depot I introduced her to Tante, who of course insisted that she
come home with us rather than stay in a hotel alone."

During this conversation, Mrs. Richard Burton, the Sunrise Camp Fire
guardian of former days, having passed by the group of girls, was making
her way upstairs alone. She had moved so quickly that, in her effort to
be polite to Bettina's new friend, Vera had no opportunity to mention
the presence of another stranger in the house. When she did murmur
something, Mrs. Burton did not hear.

Reaching her own sitting-room she gazed uncertainly for half an instant
at the tall figure on the divan, who, having poured herself another cup
of tea, was now engaged in drinking it. The next she clasped her hands
together and with a manner suggesting both nervousness and apology,
began.

"Aunt Patricia, please don't say you have come to argue with me about
taking my group of Sunrise Camp Fi