A few yards beyond the house Sally discovered old Jean, who was doubtless coming to find her, as he bore in his hand a French fleur-de-lis, the national wild flower, which he had found growing in a field as hardy and unconquerable as the French spirit.
Sally accepted his offering with the smile of gratitude which seemed always a sufficient reward for her many masculine admirers.
With Mère 'Toinette's gift in her Camp Fire knapsack and with Jean's flower thrust into her belt, Sally then made a fresh start. She had not thought of going far, as the roads and fields were in too disagreeable a condition.
Pausing about an eighth of a mile from the farm house, she considered whether after all it were worth while to remain out of doors. Even if the afternoon were enchanting, walking through the heavy upturned soil was unpleasant.
Then by accident Sally chanced to observe the ruins of the old French château shining under the rays of the winter sun.
It was not far away and suddenly she made up her mind to go upon an exploring tour. Half a dozen times in the past few weeks the Camp Fire girls had discussed paying a visit to the château to see what interesting discoveries they might unearth among the ruins. But no one of them had so far had the opportunity.
Ordinarily Sally Ashton was the least experimental of the entire group of girls. Instinctively, as a type of the feminine, home-staying woman, she disliked the many adventurous members of her own sisterhood. With not a great deal of imagination, Sally's views of romance were practical and matter of fact. Young men fell in love with one and she had no idea of how many lovers one might have and no thought of limiting the number so far as she was personally concerned. Then among the number one selected the man who would make the most comfortable and agreeable husband, married him, had children and was happy ever afterwards. So you see, a romance which might bring sorrow as well as happiness had no place in Sally Ashton's practical scheme of life.
Therefore the fates must have driven her to the old French château on this winter afternoon.
The walk itself occupied about half an hour. Around the château in times past there had been a moat. For their own convenience the German troops quartered at the old place had left the bridge over the moat undisturbed, else Sally would never have hazarded a dangerous crossing.