“Righto!” agreed her room-mate.
The girls substituted middy blouses and bloomers for the Commencement dresses, and then fell to work with a will. Order began to come from chaos, and the room took on that bare appearance of the deserted dormitory in summer time. As they surveyed the results of their labor, both Marjorie and Lily grew increasingly cheerful; they began to forget that this day was their last at Miss Allen’s, among so many dear friends, and their thoughts instead were of the future.
“Don’t you wish we knew what we were going to do this summer?” asked Marjorie, for perhaps the tenth time that week.
“Yes, but I do love a mystery. Remember last summer—how we didn’t know whether we were going to the training camp or not—and then later when we hardly dared dream that Pansy Girl Scouts would be the ones to go to Canada.”
“Yes,” said Marjorie; “and everything always seems more thrilling in reality than we ever hoped it would be. So perhaps, this summer will be, too.”
“Your father said something about Girl Scouts—oh, don’t you wish the whole senior patrol could be together?”
“It is my dearest wish,” replied Marjorie, earnestly.
The appearance of a maid at the door to remind them that the man would call for their trunks in ten minutes put an abrupt end to this pleasant conversation. Without another word, both girls set themselves to finish their task.
“There’s just time for a nap before we dress for supper,” said Lily, dropping on the bed.
“Of course I wouldn’t have said anything to mother or papa,” said Marjorie thoughtfully, “but I do wish we didn’t have to go to the inn tonight. It’s our last supper here, so I care more about the companionship with the girls than about having good food. I want to be with our best friends—Alice, and Doris, and the rest.”