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"Allen said," Betty contributed, wide-eyed, "that it made him mad to see the way that Sergeant Mullins hung around the Hostess House all the time.
He made it quite plain that there was no doubt but what I was the main attraction."
"And Roy thinks it's me," said Grace, her own grammar suffering from excitement. "Goodness! does he think the poor boy is after all of us?"
"Thinks he's going to start a harem, maybe," cried Mollie hysterically.
"Oh, dear, isn't it too ridiculous?"
"I suppose," said Amy thoughtfully, "it's because Sergeant Mullins is so awfully good-looking."
"And, of course, he does come around a good deal," added Mollie.
"I know. But that's because he's so lonesome," put in Betty. "And, of course, we have all tried to be nice to him. I think it's horrid," she added, flaring up, "for the boys to act so ridiculously just because he happens to be good-looking and awfully attractive!"
"Oh, Betty, Betty," chided Mollie, wiping a tear--this time of merriment--from her eyes. "If Allen could only hear you now!"
"Nonsense!" retorted Betty, almost snappishly. "There are dozens of boys who come here to tell us their troubles, and I don't see why they have to--"
"Pick on him," finished Grace. "Only you must remember," she added with a twinkle, "that he is much more attractive than most--"
"And he never tells us any troubles either," added Mollie, with a chuckle.
"Maybe the boys think that's suspicious."
"Well," said Amy, with a sigh, "I seem to be the only one left out. n.o.body thinks it's worth while to quarrel romantically about me."
The girls laughed, and Grace added with a grimace:
"Goodness, you needn't feel bad about it. It was just your luck that you didn't meet Will this morning and tell him the awful news, that's all. I suppose he'd have acted as silly as the rest of them."
"Maybe it's a plant anyway," suggested Mollie dolefully.
"A plant?" queried Betty. "What kind--a flower or a T.N.T. factory?"
"A plot was what I meant," explained Mollie patiently, while the others chuckled.
"A plot!" repeated Grace, with a return of her drawl. "Heavens, Mollie, if there is anything in signs you ought to be a great author some day from the way you're always seeing a plot in everything."
"Thank you, I hope so," said Mollie.
"Well, for goodness' sake get to the point," urged Grace impatiently, glancing at the clock. "We'll have to dress pretty soon, to go down to serve the regular afternoon tea to the soldier boys and their friends."
"Oh, it just occurred to me," Mollie explained, "that perhaps the boys had met some girls in town they liked better than they like us and had gotten up a conspiracy--to--to--quarrel with us--"
"What a brilliant idea!" scoffed Grace. "Especially as the boys have been following us around like Mary's little lamb, and have scared all the other boys away."
"And without being conceited at all," added Amy, with a chuckle, "the girls I've seen around the town really aren't calculated to steal their hearts away."
"In that case, haven't we still got Sergeant Mullins?" chuckled Betty.
They laughed, and Mollie added, as they started to dress for the afternoon:
"I wonder if the boys really expected that we wouldn't go to this special bayonet drill to-morrow--especially when we've been longing to see one for ages--just because Sergeant Mullins invited us?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said Betty carelessly. "But it really doesn't matter since we're going anyway!"
CHAPTER IX
THE BAYONET DRILL
It was a beautiful suns.h.i.+ny day, and the girls felt their spirits soaring happily as they ran down the steps of the Hostess House and started across the parade.
Also the, what appeared to them, foolish objections of the boys to their attending the bayonet drill lent spice to the adventure, and they hurried on gaily over the parade.
Sergeant Mullins, who had unwittingly caused all the excitement, was, as the girls had said, a tall, splendidly built fellow, good looking to an unusual degree, but very silent and reserved.
He had seemed immensely attracted from the first by the girls from the Hostess House, and had made overtures in a half-shy, half-humorous manner that the girls themselves had found very attractive.
But to them he had been only one of many interesting soldier boys who had come and gone and whose meetings and partings with dear ones they had watched with swelling throats and tears in their own eyes.
But Sergeant Mullins was an expert with the bayonet and had been attached to Camp Liberty for the purpose of giving the boys special drills in that work.
He had proved so wonderfully successful that, much to his secret chagrin--for Sergeant Mullins, like all the rest of our brave boys, had dreamed of the great things he would do "over there"--the Government had decided to keep him at Camp Liberty indefinitely.
Then, one day, he had invited the girls, in return for the many little kindnesses they had done him, to attend one of his special, exhibition drills.
They had accepted eagerly, little dreaming of the storm their acceptance would evoke. And it is very doubtful whether, even if they had known, it would have made any difference, for they had long desired just this thing and knew that in years to come they would look back upon it as one of the biggest experiences in their lives.
"What time is it, Amy?" Betty inquired a little anxiously. "I'm afraid we stopped to talk too long to those women who came out to see their nephew, and I don't want to be late."
"We have just a minute to spare," returned Amy, and they quickened their pace.
"Wouldn't it be fun," said Mollie, her eyes sparkling, "if we could only meet the boys? I'd just like to pay them back for being so silly!"
"Maybe they'll be in the drill," drawled Grace hopefully.
"That would be adding insult to injury," Betty chuckled. "Then they never would forgive us."
"I just hate jealous people, anyway," added Grace, diving into her pocket and bringing forth a luscious bonbon which Mollie eyed covetously. "I think it's so ridiculous and narrow, don't you?"
"I think it's a good deal more ridiculous and narrow," grumbled Mollie, still hungrily eyeing the rapidly disappearing chocolate, "to keep all the candies to yourself."
"Oh, goodness! Take one," returned Grace, offering a capacious pocket. "I didn't know you were such a shy and shrinking little violet, Mollie. You usually are perfectly capable of helping yourself."
"Well, not out of your fuzzy old pocket," Mollie retorted ungraciously.
"Why didn't you bring the box along?"