“No, Captain. I am the last one Lucy would allow to help her. If Ronny were here she might be able to make Lucy see things in the right light. Ronny is the only one, I feel sure, who could convince her. She would not give up until she had. But goodness knows when we shall see Ronny again!”
An anxious little pucker appeared between Marjorie’s brows. Not since the first of July had she heard word from Veronica Lynne, Miss Archer’s God-child. Ronny had left Sanford a few days after Commencement, and had written her a lengthy train letter, en route for California. This Marjorie had answered, using a San Francisco address Ronny had given her. For one reason or another, Ronny had not replied to it.
“I wish Ronny would write me,” she said. “She promised me she’d write me if she didn’t write anyone else. I know she will keep her word; but when?”
During their confidential talk, Marjorie had remained seated on her mother’s lap. Tardy recollection that she was altogether too heavy for comfort brought her to her feet.
“Poor, dear Captain!” she exclaimed. “You can’t help but be tired from holding a great, heavy elephant like me! We had so much to talk about. I forgot everything except how nice it was to snuggle close to you and be comforted. That’s the very hardest part of being away from you. I won’t have my superior officers near by to report to.”
“You will have to tuck your reports away in your mind and have a reporting session when you come home on your vacations,” her mother suggested.
“Yes; and I promise you, Captain, that all my vacations will be spent with you.” Marjorie pointed an emphatic finger at her mother. “I’ll never desert my Captain and my General when I have a furlough. No, sir!”
“I think I shall hold you to that promise, Lieutenant. You have made it of your own accord. I would rather have it a free will promise. You will be away the greater part of the year. Those precious vacations belong to us. I know General feels the same.”
“I wish you both to be very stingy of me. Then I shall be sure you love me a lot,” Marjorie replied with playful emphasis. She no longer felt like crying. While outdoors the rain continued to beat down; indoors the sun had broken through the clouds.
“Once, oh, very long ago, you spoke of reading me Jerry’s letter,” Mrs. Dean presently reminded. “Then the rain descended and the floods came, and——”