“I don’t blame you a bit, Miss Wilkinson.”
“Do you want me under those conditions?”
“Absolutely!” cried Queenie, suddenly flinging her arms around Marjorie’s neck. “You’ve got the goods—we’ll all do what you tell us!”
“All right!” agreed Marjorie, returning the embrace. “Then that’s settled. But I have some news for you, Queenie.”
“Goin’ a be married?” demanded the other, dropping her arms into her lap.
“No,” laughed Marjorie. “Nothing so serious. Only that I’ve promised to go to a class dance next Saturday evening, and so I can’t come to the scout meeting.”
“That’s all right—we’ll work just the same.”
“You really mean it?”
“Certainly. Just watch us!”
“Would you like me to send somebody in my place—one of the girls of my own old troop?”