"To finish what I was saying," Grace continued, while Betty and Amy chuckled and Mollie looked wide-eyed and innocent: "I, for one, will never take dictation from any one outside the home folks—especially mere boys our own age,"
"Well, no one asked you to," said Mollie calmly. "I really don't see what all the speech-making's about," she added.
"It was about the boys," said Amy, mumbling over her third piece of chicken.
"And by the way they take it for granted we've got to do what they say," finished Grace.
"Well," said Betty, plucking a piece of grass and rolling it thoughtfully between her fingers, "don't you think perhaps they act that way because they're going 'across' so soon?"
"I don't see what that's got to do with it," returned Mollie, puzzled. "I should think that would make them want to be especially nice to us—leave a good impression, you know."
"Just the same I can't help thinking," Betty persisted, "that that was why they acted so queerly about Sergeant Mullins. Maybe they think that when they're several thousand miles away the other boys will have their chance."
"But that's silly," objected Mollie. "As if we wouldn't think a good deal more of them when they get over there."
"Distance lends enchantment?" queried Grace, with lifted eyebrows.
"Goose," commented Mollie.