The decision to take part with the Boy Scouts in the presentation of the Greek pageant representing the adventures of Odysseus was largely brought about through Mr. Richard Fenton’s interest.

He it was who finally persuaded the Troop Captain, Sheila Mason, to give her consent. Of chief importance was her point of view, since she must be responsible for her own Girl Scouts.

For many years Mr. Fenton had been an enthusiastic Greek scholar. To him it appeared more than ordinarily worth while to stimulate among the Boy Scouts and the Girl Scouts an interest in the historic legends of the past. In his estimation the history of Greece was of greater importance than any other nation. In the history of Greece one finds the model of the first known Democratic government in the world and according to many historians the best.

The outdoor life of the American Scouts, planned to develop them mentally and physically, to make better citizens and wiser men and women, had its counterpart in the lives of the early Greeks, centered about their Olympian games.

A series of tableaux, accompanied by a recitation of the story of one of the two great Homeric poems, would not alone broaden the outlook of the young people who took part. Mr. Fenton had a shrewd idea that it would awaken among the older people in Westhaven a wider vision of beauty. Like most small towns, Westhaven was too self-centered. Mr. Fenton did not wish the little New England village to share in the opprobrium of “Main Street.”

Why was it not a portion of the work of the Scouts to bring fresh ideals of beauty and romance into their own environments? Mr. Richard Fenton considered this an important part of their service.

To-day, seated with the fourteen Girl Scouts in a circle about her, Sheila Mason was wondering if she had not been more idealistic than practical.

The girls were in their own council chamber in Beech wood Forest. No one else was within sight or hearing.

The story of the “Odyssey” lay open in Sheila Mason’s lap.

Katherine Moore, in her wheeled chair, held another copy. Bending over her, reading from the same pages, were Margaret Hale and Louise Miller.

A few feet away Tory Drew and Dorothy McClain were writing on large sheets of paper the instructions that were offered them from time to time.

Teresa Peterson, slipping her handkerchief to her eyes, was wiping away an uncomfortable moisture. Her cheeks were deeply flushed and her lips tremulous.

Lucy Martin sat contentedly on a cushion at Kara’s feet.

She had not been permitted to bear away the other girl as she had planned. However, she was allowed to stay on with the Girl Scouts in their camp for a visit which made her equally content.

To Mr. and Mrs. Hammond she had explained that she could not leave for two reasons. Kara needed her and Tory was making a picture of her. Either reason she considered sufficient. Apparently Mr. and Mrs. Hammond had agreed for the present.

“I believe, although the boys have left the final choice with us, that it will be best to follow their selection of characters,” Margaret Hale remarked.

The Troop Captain looked up from her book, first toward Teresa and then Margaret.

“I do not see what else is possible under the circumstances. We are to make two or three changes, but they are not important ones. I am sorry Teresa is disappointed. She insists that Lance originally suggested to her she could represent Penelope, so I presume she has built upon the idea. Yet it does seem more appropriate for Joan Peters to play the part of the famous lady with the web, the wife of Odysseus. There is no question, Teresa, of your not acting as well, but this is scarcely a question of acting, but of appearing to the best advantage in the series of tableaux. And Joan does look more like one’s conception of Penelope than you. Except for Lance McClain’s suggestion to you, and he should not have expressed an opinion without consulting the others, the choice has always been between Dorothy McClain and Joan. The majority finally decided in favor of Joan because Donald McClain is to appear as Odysseus and Don and Dorothy are brother and sister. Perhaps there would be less illusion in having them represent a husband and wife.”

“I suppose it is because Joan is taller and her features more regular and she is prettier, that she was chosen to play Penelope,” Teresa murmured in an injured tone and with such a gentle suggestion of melancholy, that Joan Peters appeared extremely uncomfortable.

“I don’t see it that way, Teresa, and I am perfectly willing to give up in your favor if the others will agree. Of course it is ridiculous to talk of any question of beauty having been considered. You know you are absurdly pretty, Teresa, and are merely trying to make some one say so,” Joan remarked, half serious and half amused.

As a matter of fact, she was not enthusiastic over being chosen for one of the principal parts in the Greek tableaux.

She was not particularly popular with the Boy Scouts. The boys liked half a dozen of the other girls better, although Tory Drew, Dorothy McClain and Teresa were the chief favorites.

“See here, Teresa, don’t be tiresome. If we were all to object as you do to the casting of the characters we will never get anywhere and spend the entire day in argument. Everybody knows I think it the greatest mistake in the world not to have had Dorothy in the leading rÔle. Still, I am saying very little and apologize to Joan for what I have said,” Louise Miller protested. “So let us get on with what we are trying to accomplish. Remember, we are to meet the boys and Mr. Fenton this afternoon and choose the place for our poetic drama.”

Frequently Louise Miller was too impatient with Teresa’s small frailties, her love of pleasure and admiration. This was hardly fair because of the difference in their temperaments making any sympathy between them almost impossible.

“Well there is one person whom we all agree to be the ideal choice,” Dorothy McClain remarked, hoping to turn the conversation into more agreeable channels.

She had been sitting on the ground weaving a chaplet of beech leaves. Rising up now she placed it like a crown on Kara’s brow.

“Behold Athena, the wise Goddess with the clear gray eyes!”

A little silence descended upon the group of girls.

Kara flushed.

“It is the kindest and most ridiculous thing in the world to have me take part when I cannot stir from this chair. I don’t want to seem unappreciative. I’m not really, you know, but do please explain to the Boy Scouts that they must realize it is out of the question,” Kara argued.

“No, dear, we are not going to bring up that question again. Lance and Don and Jack Hardin told you that their entire Troop of Scouts wished you to play the ‘Goddess of Wisdom.’ The tableaux are to be arranged so you need not appear but once. Then you are to be seated upon a throne as Pallas Athena should be. You know how we all feel on the subject. Surely you do not wish to disappoint everyone,” Tory protested.

She was wondering if the other girls had observed what she had. In these days of discussion of the Greek tableaux Kara had appeared brighter and more like her former self. Now and then even a glimpse of the old humor showed in the depth of her gray eyes or about the corners of her of late too serious lips.

“Tory has expressed what we all feel, Kara,” Miss Mason added. “Now, Tory, please read aloud the list of the characters so far as they have been decided upon. I am delighted to know that the father of the Boy Scouts has agreed to be with us on the evening of the tableaux and will read selections from the Odyssey as the pictures are presented.”

Tory glanced toward the paper in her lap.

“Donald McClain will be Odysseus; Lance McClain, his son, Telemachus; Joan Peters, Penelope; Victoria Drew, the Princess Nausicaa; Mr. Richard Fenton, Eumaeus, the aged servant of the Greek hero. The other Girl Scouts will be the ladies in waiting to Penelope and the Boy Scouts Penelope’s suitors.

“I had forgotten to write down that Margaret Hale will be Arete and Jack Hardin the good King Alcinous, my respected parents. I am glad they assisted the wanderer to end his adventures and return to his faithful Penelope.

“Just as well that we decided to start our tableaux with the arrival of the hero on the island of the Sea Kings! I fear it would have taxed even our talents to have shown the enchanted spots where Odysseus was held enslaved by Calypso with the beautiful hair, who sang sweetly as she wove at her loom with the golden shuttle, or Circe, the sorceress, who mixed the drink in a golden cup that turned men into swine. Representing these Goddesses would have taxed our powers. Except for Kara we are only mortals.”

Tory rose up.

“May I start with Kara to our dancing grounds? It may take me some time and Mrs. Phillips is to arrive in less than an hour for our first dance rehearsal. I have an idea, or perhaps a hope, that our Greek dance which Evan is to lead, will be one of the most beautiful, beautiful things that has ever been seen in Westhaven.”

Tory reached Kara’s chair, but at the same time Dorothy McClain pushed her gently away.

“Margaret and I are going to take turns in pushing Kara’s chair to our dancing grounds. We have already made an engagement with her to that effect. Please remember we are both stronger persons than you, and Kara will arrive far more speedily and safely.”

Tory appreciated that Dorothy was jesting, nevertheless, she bit her lips and frowned.

Kara’s hand reached around and took hold of hers.

“You’ll come along with us, won’t you, Tory? I know I am selfish, but I do hate being separated from you. If there is time before Mrs. Phillips arrives why not attempt another sketch of Lucy? We thought the first sketch you made of her wonderful, even if you were not pleased.”

In the last few days Tory had quietly been following Memory Frean’s advice and allowing the other Girl Scouts to share in the care of Kara. As a consequence they did seem to feel more pleasure in being together. But then for more than one reason Kara was in a better state of mind.