Winona of the Camp Fire Part 10

If that's your idea of a wonderful time Take me home-take me home!

she hummed. She thought she'd sung it under her breath, but it was evidently loud enough to be heard, for Billy Lee burst out laughing, too.

"Well, I didn't mean that getting stung was a pleasure exactly," said he, "but we do have dandy times."

All this time they had been standing in the hall. Suddenly it seemed to occur to Billy that Winona had come to see his sister, not him. He ushered her hurriedly into the living-room.

"I'll send Nataly down to you," he promised. But in another minute he came tearing downstairs again.

"She says, would you mind coming up to her room?" he panted. "She hasn't felt so awfully well to-day, and she isn't exactly up."

Winona followed him, consumed with curiosity as to what could ail a girl, not to be up on a beautiful spring morning, and what "not exactly up" meant. She found out in another minute.

The bed-room where Nataly was had all its windows closed, and there was a close scent of toilet-water and sachet-powder and unairedness through the whole place.

"Here's Winnie Merriam, that I told you about, sister," said Billy Lee, and bolted. He never seemed to walk, only to run.

Nataly Lee rose from the couch where she had been lying, and came toward Winona.

"I'm very glad to see you," she greeted Winnie languidly. "I think I have seen you-out in your back garden yesterday."

"I shouldn't wonder," said Winona. "I was playing tag there with my sister Florence and little Bessie Williams."

"Do you still play tag?" asked Nataly, gesturing her visitor to a seat, and lifting one weary eyebrow.

"Not as a confirmed habit," said Winona mischievously. "But you can't play it well with only two, and the children wanted me to, so-well, I just did, that was all. Don't you like tag?" she added. ("I was morally certain she'd faint," she confided to Tom afterwards, "but she didn't.")

As a matter of fact, Nataly pulled closer the blue brocaded negligee that was obviously covering up a nightgown, and said, "I don't know much about games. I like reading better."

"Oh, do you?" exclaimed Winona, interested at once. "I love reading, too, but somehow there's so little time for it except when it's bad weather. Don't you do anything but read?"

"Not much," replied Nataly languidly. "Sports bore me."

Winona gave an inward gasp of dismay.

"Mercy!" she thought, "what a queer girl!" But outwardly she persevered.

"Don't you ever dance?"

Nataly opened her heavy hazel eyes with a little more interest.

"Oh, yes, I dance, of course."

"So do I," said Winona. "I love it."

"Do you?" said Nataly. "I shouldn't think so-you seem so-athletic."

"Oh, I'm glad," said Winona innocently, beaming with pleasure. "But I'm not, particularly. I can swim, of course, and row and paddle a little, and play tennis a little. But I've never played hockey or basket-ball, either of them, much. Or baseball."

"Do girls play baseball up here?" demanded Nataly, sitting up and letting a paper novel with a thrilling picture on the cover slide to the floor.

"They do," averred Winona solemnly, but with sparkling eyes. She was tempted to go on shocking her hostess by thrilling stories of invented boxing-matches between herself and her little schoolmates, but she thought better of it. "But that wasn't really what I came about," she went on, looking longingly at the closed window, for the airless room was beginning to make her cheeks burn. "Next week the Scouts are giving us Camp Fire Girls a dance, you know-and you are coming, aren't you?"

"Yes, I think so," Nataly spoke slowly, lying back on the sofa and beginning to finger her paper novel again.

"Well"-it came out with rather a rush-"would you like to join the Camp Fire? I think you'd like it."

She went on enthusiastically telling Nataly all about it, till she was brought up short by a genuine and unsuppressed yawn on Nataly's part.

"All that work?" said Nataly plaintively. "Oh, I couldn't do any of those things-I'd die!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Winona was a little taken aback. The idea of considering whether things were too much trouble or not was a new one to her. She had always gone on the principle that-why-you _wanted_ to plunge into things head-foremost, and do them with all your might-that was the way to have fun! So the idea of lying on a sofa and shuddering at the idea of work was a great surprise.

"No, I really couldn't join," said Nataly, with the first energy she had shown. "But I'm very glad you came to see me."

"Yes, so am I," said Winona politely. "And you will come and see me as soon as you can, won't you?"

"Yes, indeed," promised Nataly. She threw up her hand and pressed a b.u.t.ton back of her sofa as she spoke, for Winona was rising to go.

"Emma will show you the way downstairs," she said languidly, "and don't you want this? It's very interesting-I've just finished it."

"This" was the paper novel with the melodramatic cover.

"Why, thank you!" said Winona, taking it politely. "It's very kind of you. And you will come over?"

"Oh, yes," responded Billy Lee's sister, "I shall be very glad to call."

"Well, how was it?" demanded Tom of his sister that evening.

Winona laughed and shrugged her shoulders.

"Why, very nice. Only Nataly Lee's about a million years older than I am, and she made me feel as if I were seven instead of fourteen. And she certainly is the _queerest_ girl! She doesn't seem to want to do anything for fear it will be too much trouble!"

"What about joining up with your Daughters of Pocahontas?" inquired Tom.

Winona didn't stop to rebuke him for his flippancy.

"Well, about that," she replied, "she reminded me of one of the haughty ladies in the j.a.panese Schoolboy's housework experiences-don't you remember? 'I have not the want to,' she sniffed haughtily with considerable frequency! But she's coming to the dance."

"Queer," said Tom. "There's no nonsense about Billy-he's a good all-around fellow. Well, you never can tell."

"No," acquiesced Winona philosophically, "you can't, and it's rather a good thing, too!"

CHAPTER SEVEN