"Yes, miss," said Sergeant "Syd" in a husky, boyish voice. "Captain Holiday himself said the invitation was to go to the camp in good time, so that all of the young ladies might arrange to come. He hoped all of you would, of course."
"Tell him not to worry, we're all for it," declared saucy little Peggy from her gate. "I daresay it'll be a wash-out of a concert"—with a wink at us—"but we'll have to be thankful for what we can get in the Land Army. I suppose you'll give us a solo on the comb? And is your Captain Holiday going to oblige at the concert, Syd?"
"Not him! Says he doesn't know one tune from another," laughed the wounded soldier. "Sitting in the audience with you young ladies, that's the job he's for."
"I'm astonished at him," said Peggy, with a mischievous smile straight at me.
Syd added:
"I tell you who is a very fine singer, now—we could listen to him all night—his voice is a fair treat, and he's going to sing. It's that officer that Captain Holiday's got staying at the Lodge with him. Colonel Fielding, his name is."
I exclaimed:
"Oh! So he's staying at the Lodge!"
Peggy gave me a quick look and said:
"So he's another friend of yours?"