he left-hand side,
where a shore of bright pebbles ran down into the lake, was the
bathing beach for the campers. The water for drinking was obtained at
a pure spring up the hill of the Three Pines which rose not far off
from the camp.

At present, as the greater number of the girls were still busy in
their tents, the vicinity of the lake was agreeably solitary.

As the three girls sat down Louise Miller said suddenly:

"There is a legend of a lake where every night at midnight a maiden
arises bearing in her hands a silver bowl. One may make a wish and
cast it into the silver bowl. Then the maiden disappears. On another
night, one can never know exactly when, the maiden returns and on this
night grants your wish."

"I wish she would appear at once," Teresa grumbled. "I have a wish she
might be persuaded to grant. I want something more exciting to happen
at camp. Oh, I am enjoying it of course, but of late the days have
been a good deal alike."

"What is it you want, Teresa?" Louise Miller demanded a little
scornfully. Two girls could not have been more unlike. Because Louise
was intellectual she could not altogether refrain from regarding the
other girl with a mixture of pity and amused contempt, as well as
occasional envy.

Teresa was so pretty, so gentle and confiding and pleasure loving.
When she failed to live up to the Scout rules, as all of the girls,
being human, did now and then, no one ever blamed Teresa. Nor did
Louise Miller understand that Teresa represented the type of girl who
oftentimes has a stronger will than any other, hidden beneath her
apparent gentleness. Teresa was not conscious of possessing a strong
will. In fact, she would have denied the fact, believing she was
telling the exact truth.

She only knew that in a quiet fashion she wanted what she wanted very
intensely and that it was almost impossible to give up any wish. She
might try her best, she might even pretend to herself that she had
given up. The desire was inclined to be only asleep and to wake again.
One must remember this characteristic in hearing of Teresa Peterson's
after career.

Teresa shrugged her shoulders.

"I am not anxious to talk to you, Louise, only it is so impossible to
see Dorothy without you."

Teresa flushed prettily.

"There, I don't mean to be rude. One is now and then without intending
it. I suppose you are such a profoundly intellectual individual you
cannot bear with my frivolous character.

"I on