The Outdoor Girls at the Hostess House Part 19

"Yes," they prompted gently.

"That my Willie boy could have gone with them," she said, the words so soft that they had to lean close to her to catch them. "I would have been so proud of him."

The girls were silent, not knowing how to comfort the poor old woman.

"Perhaps," said Amy at last, scarcely knowing what she was saying, yet trying so hard to comfort, "he is a soldier somewhere. There are so many thousands of them, you know."

Mrs. Sanderson turned to her with such fierce emotion in her eyes that the girl unconsciously shrank back.

"If I thought that," she said, her voice tense, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that the knuckles showed white, "I'd be willing, glad, to die the next minute. If I could just see my boy in uniform--even if I knew I could never see him again--" her voice trailed off, and once more the light died out of her eyes.

"But, of course, that's impossible," she said wearily. "If my boy had been alive, he'd have come back to me. But that wasn't why I came in to see you so early," she added after a moment, straightening up with that indomitable courage that had won, first, the girls' admiration, then their love. "I jest wanted to find out when 'twas the boys was startin'."

"We're not quite sure. The boys thought some time between nine and ten o'clock, but they didn't seem to be at all sure about it. The only thing we really know is that they're going to start early," Betty answered.

"Thank you, dear." The old lady rose, and when she started for the door Mollie ran before her and opened it.

When she had gone, the girls sat still, just looking at each other for a few minutes. Then--

"Isn't she wonderful?" breathed Betty. "After all these years she would give him up gladly for the sake of her country. That's real patriotism."

"She deserves to get him back," murmured Mollie, as though speaking to herself.

"Well, that's just the reason she won't," said Grace, irritably struggling with an unruly lock of hair. "n.o.body ever gets what he deserves in this awful world. What is the matter with my hair this morning? It looks just exactly as I feel."

"Oh, come away from the mirror, Gracie," cried Betty, putting an arm about her and dragging her, an unwilling victim, out into the hall. "You'll feel better after you've had your breakfast. And remember," she added diplomatically, "there's a brand new box of candy in your left-hand dresser drawer."

The ruse worked, and a smile forced its way through Grace's discontent.

Then a sudden thought struck her and the smile flickered and went out altogether.

"It was Roy's parting gift," she said, striving to speak lightly, though her voice trembled ever so little. "You know, Betty," she said in a rare burst of confidence, "I never had the slightest idea I could feel so really b-bad--" her eyes filled and she brushed her hand across them impatiently.

"Am I not a goose?" she asked plaintively, and Betty, trying to laugh, choked, too, and abandoned the attempt.

Then they both smiled, an April sort of uncertain smile and went in to breakfast.

"I guess," remarked Betty whimsically, just as Mollie and Amy ran down the stairs and into the room, "that we're fast becoming what you said you were the other day, Gracie--a regular flock of geese!"

CHAPTER XVI

SPARRING FOR TIME

The roads were muddy from the heavy rain that had fallen over night, but Mollie demurred when the girls suggested that they walk to the station rather than go in the automobile.

"It may be all very well for you," she declared, "but I certainly don't feel in any mood for taking a two-mile walk this morning."

"Well, my knees do feel kind of weak and wobbly," agreed Amy plaintively.

"But you know how reckless you are, Mollie, and on these wet roads we're very apt to skid."

"Well, but what's one skid more or less in a good cause?" interrupted Betty merrily. "Besides, I guess we wouldn't have time to walk, anyway,"

she added quickly, as dozens of soldiers began pouring from their barracks. "We'll never be able to get to the station before the boys unless we take the car."

"Girls, they're really going," wailed Amy, as they quickly got into their wraps.

"Certainly looks like it," said Grace grimly, for once not knowing or caring whether the becoming little hat was tilted at exactly the right angle or not. "It makes me feel all queer and--wobbly inside."

"Better take some candy along," advised Mollie, with a weak attempt at raillery as they ran down the porch steps and piled into the car. "You won't be able to come out of it alive if you're not properly fortified, Gracie."

"Oh, that reminds me," cried Betty, springing from her seat and from the car at the risk of her neck, for the machine had already begun to move.

"We forgot the chocolate and tobacco for the boys. Wait for me, Mollie."

But Mollie, who had already brought the car to a standstill with a jerk and a grinding of brakes, leapt out after her, and the two flew up the steps, taking two at a time, and into the house.

Left behind, Amy and Grace looked at each other.

"I wish I could move like that," sighed the latter. "Those two get things done while I'm just beginning to think about it."

"And here they come back again," marveled Amy.

"Yes we have, and it's just about time, too," panted Betty, as they scrambled into the machine. "The boys are coming from the main gate now, and we'll have to make things hum if we want to get there before them."

"As Frank would remark," agreed Mollie: "'You said it!' This is going to be the race of a lifetime,"

"But Mollie," said Amy, gripping both hands tight in her lap as the car swerved sharply and executed a magnificent skid on two wheels, "you know it won't do either the boys or us any good if we get killed on the way. Do be--"

"Amy Blackford," cried Mollie in an ominous tone of voice, "if you say that word to me again I will run into a tree or something just for spite!"

Amy gave a plaintive little moan, and her two hands gripped tighter in her lap.

"All right," she said. "I'm glad I made my will a couple of days ago."

Grace turned an interested and speculative eye upon her.

"Oh, you did," she remarked, adding in a wheedling tone, "What did you leave me, dear? You know I always was your best friend."

"Goodness, I wonder who's my worst then," retorted Amy, with an unexpected flash of humor.

"Oof, that was a bad one, Gracie," Betty laughed, glad of any diversion to keep the vision of those splendid, marching boys in the background as long as possible.

Unconsciously the girls were sparring for time. They knew that once they let themselves think, that once they let themselves realize the full significance, the utter finality of this thing that was about to happen, it would be hard for them to smile. And they so wanted to smile!

They had been so glad, so proud when the boys had volunteered among the very first. Down in their hearts they had known that that was the only thing they could have done.

And the thought of their going away had seemed so far in the future that, as yet, it need not worry them. Blinded by their own pa.s.sionate patriotism, they had seen all of the glory of war and none of its horror.