“This is Marjorie Wilkinson,” she said, in answer to Mr. Richards’ cheery “Hello!” “And I want to tell you my troubles.”
“Of course,” returned the other. “We all have ’em, you know; even the leaders of the so-called model troops. And you couldn’t hope to escape.”
“You know how pleased I was with your talk the other night, as I told you over the phone, but how discouraged I was with the rest of the meeting, when I tried to teach some of the practical things.”
“Yes, and I reminded you that that was to be expected.”
“I realized that,” admitted Marjorie. “But today I had a real disappointment. My girls actually got so bored with me on our hike that they ran away!”
Mr. Richards burst out laughing.
“Then girls are as hard to manage as boys?” he demanded. “I never realized it before, but I believe it now!”
“Did boys ever do that to you?”
“Yes, and sometimes when six or eight promised to show up for some shindig, nobody came at all! It’s all in the day’s work.”
“But what would you do? Give them up?”