The Outdoor Girls at the Hostess House Part 14

"We might," she said thoughtfully, as though speaking to herself, "tell her that we were trying to find her son. That might have some effect upon her."

"Upon whom?" asked Mollie, nearly running the car into a tree by the roadside in an effort to get a glimpse of Betty.

"Oh, Mollie, do be careful," cried Amy plaintively. "I never come out with you but what I expect to be killed."

"I should think you'd be tired expecting by this time," returned Mollie practically. "Now will you please repeat that somewhat meaningless jumble of words, Betty dear? What was it--something about somebody's son having a good effect upon somebody--"

"Well, I hope you feel better, now that you've gotten it out of your system," drawled Grace. "Now, Betty, go on. I'll keep her quiet with chocolates till you've had your say."

"Go on talking all night, will you, Betty dear?" entreated Mollie, speaking thickly because of a mouthful of chocolate. "Home was never--"

But here Grace inserted another bonbon so deftly that Mollie choked and almost precipitated another appalling accident.

"For goodness sakes, hurry, Betty!" cried Amy, in dismay. "If you don't, there won't be anything of us left to listen to you."

"Well," said Betty obediently, for she had been so busy with her own thoughts that half the persiflage and gay bantering had pa.s.sed above her head, "I was speaking of Mrs. Sanderson and her son. I thought that if we told her we were trying to find her Willie, she might consent to stay on with us a little longer."

"But wouldn't that be rather raising false hopes?" objected Grace. "We haven't very much chance of really making such a promise good, you know."

"Well, but if we tried hard enough we might think of something," Betty insisted. "We might," she added vaguely, "We might--advertise--"

"In what?" queried Amy.

"The papers, of course," Betty answered impatiently.

"Well," said Mollie, chewing down the last bit of chocolate and speaking thoughtfully, "there may be something in your idea, at that, Betty. I don't know about the others, but I'm with you, anyway."

CHAPTER XII

WHERE LOVE IS DEAF

"Doesn't it seem funny," Amy was saying as she daintily but thoroughly gnawed a chicken bone, "not to have the boys with us?"

"Well I think," returned Mollie, her nose at an independent angle, "that it's mighty nice--for a change."

"Yes," Grace agreed, employing her paper napkin to remedy the damage done by a vivid spot of jelly on her skirt. "They seem to think they can dictate to us. Imagine it! To us! Outdoor girls who have never known what it was to take dictation from any one!"

"Except our Daddies," Betty broke in, her eyes twinkling. "I've seen even you stand at attention, Gracie dear, when Mr. Ford spoke."

"Oh well, of course," said Grace, dismissing the interruption with a wave of her hand. "We've got to obey our parents, till we're twenty-one anyway."

"Then I guess we've got to go on obeying all the rest of our lives," said Mollie, with a sigh.

They looked at her curiously.

"For who," she went on to explain reasonably, "in her right senses is going to admit to being twenty-one?"

"To finish what I was saying," Grace continued, while Betty and Amy chuckled and Mollie looked wide-eyed and innocent: "I, for one, will never take dictation from any one outside the home folks--especially mere boys our own age,"

"Well, no one asked you to," said Mollie calmly. "I really don't see what all the speech-making's about," she added.

"It was about the boys," said Amy, mumbling over her third piece of chicken.

"And by the way they take it for granted we've got to do what they say,"

finished Grace.

"Well," said Betty, plucking a piece of gra.s.s and rolling it thoughtfully between her fingers, "don't you think perhaps they act that way because they're going 'across' so soon?"

"I don't see what that's got to do with it," returned Mollie, puzzled. "I should think that would make them want to be especially nice to us--leave a good impression, you know."

"Just the same I can't help thinking," Betty persisted, "that that was why they acted so queerly about Sergeant Mullins. Maybe they think that when they're several thousand miles away the other boys will have their chance."

"But that's silly," objected Mollie. "As if we wouldn't think a good deal more of them when they get over there."

"Distance lends enchantment?" queried Grace, with lifted eyebrows.

"Goose," commented Mollie.

"Goodness," cried Grace plaintively, "that's the second time I've been called a goose in the last five minutes. Pretty soon I'll be a whole flock of them!"

The girls laughed, and Mollie said with aggravating condescension:

"It's hard sometimes to tell the truth, Grace dear, but we only do it for your own good. That's what friendship is for, you know."

"Then give me enemies!" cried Grace. "I don't care how many faults I have if people just won't tell me about them."

"Which reminds me of something," said Mollie with a chuckle.

"Well, don't tell us about it," said Grace hastily. "I'm trying hard to love you, Mollie, but I can't stand everything--"

"Oh, but it's a joke on me this time," Mollie rea.s.sured her, and Grace sat back with a sigh of relief.

"It happened while we were at Pine Island," Mollie continued with a chuckle. "I was sitting in the living room playing the piano--"

"Or trying to?" interrupted Grace.

"Or trying to," agreed Mollie with perfect good-nature. "You know my repertoire consists of two pieces, and I was humming one of them as I played.

"Frank and Roy were sitting on the steps of the porch outside and I heard Frank say to Roy very earnestly:

"'Do you know, I think Mollie would have a wonderful voice if she would only have it cultivated.'"

"Goodness, I thought--" began Grace, but the Little Captain very hastily pinched her into silence.

"Evidently they thought I couldn't hear them," Mollie continued. "But they were mistaken, for I heard Roy answer pityingly, 'Say, old man, I've heard of love being blind before, but here's a case where the poor little G.o.d is deaf.'"