The Outdoor Girls at the Hostess House Part 24

"It wouldn't be near so bad," she added, turning to the girls with such a depth of tragedy in her eyes that their hearts bled for her, "if I could only be sure o' his bein' dead. It's the heartbreak of not knowin' that's goin' to kill me in the end!

"But there," she said, catching herself up as though ashamed of the outburst, "seems like I talk to you little ladies more'n I ever talked to anybody else in all my life. Seems like it's jest been bottled up inside o' me so long it's jest got to come out.

"I wish you'd tell me," she added, looking at them wistfully, "when it bothers you, an' I'll jest bottle it all up again twice as tight as 'twas before."

"Oh, please," cried Amy, taking one of the work-worn hands and pressing it earnestly between her own warm ones. "We just feel honored to think that you trust us enough and like us enough to tell us these things. If you didn't we'd be miserable!"

"Indeed we should," added Betty fervently.

Mrs. Sanderson looked from one of the flushed earnest faces to the other, and her eyes filled slowly with tears.

"I never thought," she said tremulously, "that there were girls like you in the world."

Several days later Mrs. Watson, their chaperone, and the head of the Hostess House, called the girls to her for a consultation, and, wondering what new thing was in store for them, they responded to the call.

The boys had been gone for a week, time enough to get accustomed--a little--to the feeling of loss that had so oppressed them during the first few days.

And now there were rumors of new soldiers arriving at the camp and of more than enough work for the girls at the Hostess House to keep their minds continually occupied.

And, in fact, it was to discuss that very situation that Mrs. Watson had called them to her this morning.

"Well, girls," she said when they had seated themselves in characteristic att.i.tudes about the room, "we've had a little breathing spell now, just enough time to rest up before the next onslaught."

She paused over the word, smiled, and they smiled back at her.

"Of course that means," Betty interpreted, "that not only the boys but hundreds of their relatives and friends are coming to be entertained and housed and amused."

"Exactly," nodded Mrs. Watson. "And, of course, the work that you girls have done--"

"And you," Betty interjected loyally, but Mrs. Watson brushed the interruption aside with a wave of her hand, though she flushed happily.

"Of course I've done my part of it," she agreed modestly. "But equally of course I couldn't have done it if you girls hadn't stood shoulder to shoulder with me. And," she added, enthusiastically, "it has been more the spirit with which you did the work than the actual work itself that has won such a reputation for our Hostess House here."

"'Reputation!'" repeated Mollie wonderingly, then added with an impish inflection: "Oh, have we one of those things?"

"We have," responded Mrs. Watson, with an indulgent smile. "And, whether deserved or not, modesty would prompt us to say that it is not, of course--" and the girls laughed amusedly. "Our reputation is unusually good and unusually widespread. So good, in fact, that the boys are glad when they find they are to be sent to Camp Liberty."

"Yes," Betty nodded thoughtfully, "several boys have told me that, but I thought they only said it in a spirit of grat.i.tude, or perhaps, as flattery."

"That is modest," said Mrs. Watson with another smile. "But," she added, leaning forward in her chair and speaking earnestly, "I honestly think that you girls don't even begin to realize what a wonderful work you have been doing right here in this little city that sprang up over night. It isn't a small thing, you know--sending thousands of our boys away cheered and strengthened, armed to meet the future--better men, just for having met you.

"And the mothers and wives and sweethearts who have been entertained so royally and permitted to say good-bye to their loved ones under the very best and cheeriest conditions possible--why, they have spoken to me of you with tears in their eyes!"

There were tears in their own eyes as the girls smiled happily at her.

"But it's been such fun," Mollie protested, "just seeing how much you can make people forget their troubles."

"That's it," Mrs. Watson broke in quickly. "That's the spirit that has made your work here such a wonderful success. You've done it--and whether you will admit it or not, sometimes we've all been so tired at night we've ached in every joint and muscle when we've crawled into bed--because you loved to do it and because it was 'fun' to make people forget their troubles, if only for a little while, and be happy.

"That's the secret, dear girls, and that's why the boys are all eager to be a.s.signed here. Also, the boys in the permanent garrison will sing your praises to the few who have not already heard them, and of course we shall have to live up to their opinion of us."

"Well, if just doing what we have been doing gives us such a reputation,"

said Amy soberly, "I guess it won't be hard to live up to it in the future."

"Only," said Mrs. Watson warningly, "the work before us is apt to be very much more trying and arduous than any we have yet had. The camp is going to be filled to overflowing, and of course that will mean entertaining continually for us.

"We may even," she added thoughtfully, "have to quarter some of the relatives and friends outside the camp in private homes, and, of course, it will be up to us to find those homes."

"You mean we are to go canva.s.sing--the way we did that Thanksgiving?"

queried Betty.

Mrs. Watson nodded, and Grace groaned.

"Well," said the latter, "I don't care. In fact, I rather like the idea if only my feet will hold out."

"They look pretty durable," remarked Mollie gravely.

"But you don't know how they feel," retorted Grace, wiggling one foot in its trim slipper experimentally. "Every time I get a pair of shoes I have to get a size larger, and you know," argumentatively, "at that rate I'll be a freak and you'll be able to charge admission for a look at me."

"Good," cried Mrs. Watson, laughing with the others. "I knew some one would be clever enough to think up a new way of making money. Keep it right up, Grace."

"Yes," said Betty drolly, "just think of the good you can do!"

CHAPTER XX

THE MOTORCYCLIST AGAIN

"What a glorious morning!" cried Betty, raising her face to the brilliant suns.h.i.+ne. "I feel as if I could walk miles and miles and miles and never stop."

"Well, it's lucky for you that you do," sighed Grace. "Perhaps you'd be willing to walk a few for me."

"Oh, don't give up, Grade dear, before we've even started," cried Betty, giving a little exuberant skip with the sheer joy of being alive.

"Anyway," she added, with inspiration, "if you get tired you and Mollie can go back and get the car."

"And have to walk miles to get it," Grace objected. "No, Betty, you'll have to think up something better than that."

"I wouldn't waste my time on such a lazy person, Betty," said Mollie, who was walking briskly ahead with Amy. "I suppose we might have brought the car," she added, after a minute, "only it seems foolish when you have to stop at every house you come to."

"It not only _seems_ foolish--it _is_ foolish," said Betty cheerily.

"Oh, I tell you what," cried Amy, seized with sudden inspiration, while the girls stared at her expectantly.

"Hasten, Amy," cried Mollie, in a mock agony of suspense. "Do not keep us waiting in this fas.h.i.+on."