Grace said it was, but that they were waiting for Hippy so that all might sit down together.
Lieutenant Wingate came in shortly after that, covered with dirt, and a beauty spot on one cheek.
“You are a sight, Hippy Wingate,” chided Grace. “How did you get yourself in such a condition?”
“Helping the man grease the wagon.”
“You go right up to our room and make yourself fit to sit down with civilized persons,” ordered Nora. “I am ashamed to own you as my husband.”
“Isn’t that a fine way to order around a fellow who has fought the Boche on high, and who will go down in history as a brave air fighter?” teased Anne.
“Some husbands have to be ordered. Mine is one of them,” answered Nora, giving Hippy’s ear a tweak. “Now run along, little man.”
Hippy kissed Nora and ran upstairs laughing to himself. Nora’s scolding did not even penetrate skin deep with Lieutenant Wingate, nor did she intend that it should.
Soon after that the Overton College girls filed into the dining room where a number of tourists were having luncheon. The girls, in their overseas uniforms, attracted attention at once, many of the guests having been told who the young women, with the tanned faces and familiar uniforms, were. The guests also had been informed that the man with the party was Lieutenant Wingate, a noted American air fighter who stood high up in the list of those who had downed more than twenty enemy planes.
As she took her seat at the table, Grace bowed smilingly to two ladies who had come in on the train with them that morning.