“Cheer up, you’ll have breakfast with them tomorrow,” reminded Lily. “And we can come back early this evening, and maybe wear our riding-habits to visit them.”
Marjorie’s face brightened at the suggestion.
“It’s Friday night, Lil!” she exclaimed, suddenly. “Oh, if our senior patrol could only get together for one last meeting! Just think—is it possible we’re out of active membership of the Girl Scouts forever?” Her voice became disconsolate, and she uttered the last word almost in a whisper.
“But we won’t be,” said Lily, reassuringly. “We’re both going to start troops of our own in the fall. And besides, I shan’t give up hopes for this summer until I hear what your father tells you tonight.”
Both girls were in their kimonos, ready for their brief nap. Almost as soon as they stopped talking and closed their eyes, they fell asleep, exhausted from the strain and excitement of the week.
Neither realized how long she had been asleep; each sat up at the same moment, awakened by a continuous knocking. Someone was at the door.
“My gracious, what’s that?” cried Lily. “It must be late, Marj! How long do you suppose we have slept?”
Mechanically, patiently, the knocking persisted. Whoever the visitor was, she evidently did not intend to give up until she received an answer.
“We’ve got to open the door, though, goodness knows, we haven’t any time for callers,” said Marjorie, pulling on her slippers.
Before she reached the door there came another volley of knocks, then a whisper, followed by sounds of smothered laughter. The visitors were evidently in high good humor. Sleepily, and with an excuse half-formed on her lips, Marjorie opened the door. To her immense surprise, not one, but five girls confronted her—her five best friends in the Girl Scout troop. She burst into laughter.