The Deans exchanged significant smiles at sight of Marjorie, Mary and Constance approaching the automobile, three abreast, arms firmly linked.
"Attention!" called Mr. Dean. "Salute your officers!" Two hands went up in instant obedience of the order. Constance hesitated, then followed suit.
"I see my regiment has increased," remarked Mr. Dean, as he sprang out to assist the three into the car.
"Yes, Connie has joined the company," rejoiced Marjorie. "I am answering for her. She needs military discipline."
"Three soldiers are ever so much more interesting than two," put in Mary shyly. Her earnest eyes sought the face of her Captain, as though to ask mute pardon for her errors. Mrs. Dean's affectionate smile carried with it the absolution Mary craved, and Mr. Dean's firm clasp of her hand, as he helped her into the car, was equally reassuring.
Mrs. Dean had ordered a light repast especially on account of Constance and Marjorie. She had not counted on Mary, but she was a most welcome addition. Their faithful maid, Delia, had insisted on staying up to make cocoa and serve the supper party.
"Captain," begged Marjorie, as the three girls appeared in her room, after going upstairs, "please let us stay up as late as we wish to-night? We simply must talk things out. To-morrow is Saturday, you know."
"For once I will withdraw all objections. You may stay up as late as you please." The three girls kissed her in turn. Mary was last. Mrs. Dean drew her close and kissed her twice. "Have you won the fight, Lieutenant?" she whispered.
Mary simply nodded, her blue eyes misty. She could not trust herself to speak. "To-morrow—I'll—tell you," she faltered, then hurried to overtake Constance and Marjorie, who were half-way upstairs.
The "talk" lasted until two o'clock that morning. It was interspersed with laughter, fond embracing and a few tears. When it ended, Marjorie's dream of friendship had come true.