“No, I haven’t,” replied her companion. “I tried to when I wrote to thank him for the roses. But somehow I didn’t know how to tell him, because you know we had partly arranged to go to the same place this summer. It seems sort of like going back on my promise!”
“Well, you couldn’t help that,” returned Lily, consolingly. “But I’m sure he won’t be angry.”
“No, maybe not angry, but hurt, perhaps. Still—scouts have to come first, don’t they, Lil?”
“You bet they do! Particularly as this is probably the last thing you and I shall ever do as members of Pansy troop!”
“And that reminds me,” said Marjorie, “I wanted to ask you whether you thought we couldn’t keep our organization, and have regular scout meetings at the ranch. And we could wear our uniforms once in a while, just for old time’s sake, you know.”
“Indeed I do approve of that idea!” cried Lily, with spirit. “Let’s keep our senior patrol as long as we possibly can.”
“I sort of hesitated to suggest it,” continued Marjorie, “because I am senior patrol leader, and I was afraid it might look as if I were trying to keep all the power I could get.”
As Lily listened to these words, a new thought came into her mind. She seized upon it immediately; it was a veritable inspiration.
“Marj! I have it! You’re eighteen now—let’s get you commissioned as lieutenant!”
“Lieutenant—of—Pansy—troop?” repeated Marjorie, overcome by the wonder of such a proposal. When the older girls had received their commissions, she had looked upon them with awe and admiration, but it never seemed possible to her that she could hold the same office as Edith Evans and Frances Wright. She had always dreamed of becoming an officer—perhaps, in time, a captain—over a troop of little girls. But to be first lieutenant of her own troop—that seemed utterly out of the question.