I am afraid to write it
even to you, leather Louise.
Suddenly I stood up beside Mr. Douglass, and looked down at Roxanne,
and then up at him.
"Do both of you trust me enough to let me try to help if I do it with
my own brains and not--not my father's money?" I asked.
For a moment they both looked at me, and then the Idol took my hand in
his and looked me in the eyes just as square as I looked at him.
"Yes," he said in a voice that grows more wonderful the more you love
and know him, "you are one of us and you can plan with us all you are
able to."
"Yes, Phyllis; you have never offered or asked us to do anything we
ought not to, and if you can think with us I know it will help,"
Roxanne said, looking up at me trustfully.
Again I make record, Louise, that my course with the Byrd family pride
has conquered it, even if I did display symptoms of it myself by
staying away from the cottage so long. I'm in a very queer position. I
have not made everybody understand that I can't be a Girl Scout and I
am a dishonored person in Byrdsville, with all sorts of distinctions
offered me. But this scheme I have thought up to get the doctor here
has made me hold my breath so that I can hardly write, and I can't
worry over honors and medals and things.
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