“The Girl Scouts!” she announced, joyfully, for the mere mention of the subject reminded her of so many past pleasures. “Something for the Girl Scouts—to make other girls as happy as I’ve always been!”
“Marj, you’re wonderful!” cried her roommate, with genuine regard in her tone, regard which had never ceased to increase with the friendship of so many years. “But please don’t try to do anything till you see whether you’re elected president,” she cautioned. “That’s an honor you could remember all your life!”
The other girl was silent, thoughtful for a few moments as if she were weighing both possibilities.
“I don’t believe an honor means so much to me as a responsibility,” she answered slowly. “Honors are things it is better for one to forget. Don’t you honestly think so, Lil?”
Again Lily looked at her chum in admiration; she was invariably impervious to flattery.
“But what do you mean to do, Marj?” she inquired. “Go on with our little troop in the village?”
Marjorie shook her head again.
“No, that isn’t enough. One of the juniors—Daisy, or Florence, or Alice—can take charge of that without any trouble. I want to give something more of myself to the Girl Scouts.”
“But how? Do you mean re-organize our old patrol, as Aunt Emeline suggested? It would be awfully hard to get the girls together, with Ethel teaching, and Doris and Mae both married——”
“No, no, Lil, not that! I agree with you that it would be out of the question, no matter how much fun it would be. Everybody’s too busy—we’ll have to wait till we’re all grandmothers, and then we can have regular reunions. But what I am thinking of is a troop with an entirely new set of girls—girls that have nothing in their lives. Perhaps I might find such a group in the city.”