uld not join now, Gladys.
Listen to me. I do not blame you greatly for this. I would rather have
you act this way than be a hypocrite, pretending to believe in our law
when you do not."

"Oh, I hate you! I hate the Camp Fire! I wouldn't join for anything in
the world, after this!"

"There will be time to settle that when we are ready to let you join,
Gladys," said Eleanor, a little sternness creeping into her voice, as if
she were growing angry for the first time. "To join the Camp Fire is a
privilege. Remember this--no girl does the Camp Fire a favor by joining
it. The Camp Fire does not need any one girl, no matter how clever, or
how pretty, or how able she may be, as much as that girl needs the Camp
Fire. The Camp Fire, as a whole, is a much greater, finer thing than any
single member."

Sobs of anger were choking Gladys when she tried to answer. She could
not form intelligible words.

Eleanor glanced at Mary Turner, and the Guardian of the new Camp Fire,
on the hint, put her arm about Gladys.

"I think you'd better go back to the camp now, dear," she said, very
gently. "You and I will have a talk presently, when you feel better, and
perhaps you will see that you are wrong."

All the life and spirit seemed to have left the girls as Gladys, her
head bowed, the sound of her sobs still plainly to be heard, left the
circle of the firelight and made her lonely way over the beach toward
the tents of her own camp. For a few moments silence reigned. Then
Eleanor spoke, coolly and steadily, although Mary Turner, who was close
to her, knew what an effort her seeming calm represented.

"We have had a hard thing to do to-night," she said. "I know that none
of you will add to what Gladys has made herself suffer. She is in the
wrong, but I think that very few of us will have any difficulty in
remembering many times when we have been wrong, and have been sure that
we were right. Gladys thinks now that we are all against her--that we
wanted to humiliate her. We must make her understand that she is wrong.
Remember, Wo-he-lo means love."

She paused for a moment.

"Wo-he-lo means love," she repeated. "And not love for those whom we
cannot help loving. The love that is worth while is that we give to
those who repel us, who do not want our love. It is easy to love those
who love us. But in time we can make Gladys love us by showing that we
want to love her and do what we can to make her happy. And now, since I
think none of