Not that this was in any way remarkable or at first
excited any suspicion, for the young woman and girl had become good
friends in the past weeks, often consulting with one another concerning
questions of camp life. Indeed Betty had been chiefly responsible for
bestowing on their guardian her pretty new title, although the name had
really developed from the suggestion first made by Mollie O'Neill and
later turned into a jest by her sister.
"Our Lady of the Hill" was now Miss McMurtry's title as guardian of the
Sunrise Camp. But because the expression was too long a one for
ordinary conversation, "Donna," the soft Italian word for "lady," was
more often substituted.
"I don't think I can be mistaken, Donna," Betty now returned seriously,
her face flushed and her gray eyes unusually grave. "I don't want you
to think I would make trouble in camp for all the world, as it is all
probably my fault, but Esther was with me and has the same impression I
have. She thought I ought to speak to you as a kind of warning to the
other girls. I wish you would let me call Esther."
Miss McMurtry agreed, frowning uncomfortably and resting her head on one
hand. Since outdoor life gives one whatever help is needed, she had
grown far less thin with her months of fresh air, her figure was less
angular, her expression less learned and her whole manner more like a
girl's than an old maid's.
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