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"Um-hm!" I thought; "Charlotte Oliver, eh?" I responded tartly that I had that very morning met four ladies the poetry of whose actual, visible loveliness had abundantly illustrated to me the needlessness and impertinence of fiction! By the way, did he not think feminine beauty was always in its ripest perfection at eighteen?

I found but one white figure under the dim veranda eaves. "Miss Camille?"

I averted my face and answered with a nod.

"Oh, now you're real mean! No! what she's brought the most of is--guess! You'll never guess it in the world!"

"My father? no; but he's prejudiced! That's one of the things I can never understand--why nearly all the girls I know have such prejudiced fathers."

"Why, what do you mean? You know we're here to rejoin the company as it comes down from union Church to camp here to-night. That's what we're here for."

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