“Glad I fetched a clean white frock this very day,” remarked Louise, and her companions seemed none the less glad that they too had “fatigue uniforms,” a simple white dress used by these Scouts on just such occasions as that they were now dressing for.
The storm had driven more than one camp to seek refuge in the hotel that evening, and arriving there the Bobbies were overjoyed to meet a number of their acquaintances from among the summer colonists.
Dancing was of the desultory order, but what was lacking in vigor was made up in continuity, for it seemed there was never rest, stop, nor intermission to the programme. It was just one long, languid, continuous dance.
Around the edge of the “ball room” the Bobbies danced and capered, not venturing out to take the place possibly claimed by the grown-ups. The so-called ball room was merely the largest room the hotel boasted of, and evidently its festive claims were based upon the faded crepe paper that still clung reluctantly to chandeliers and other conveniently set out points.
But the music was “pretty fair,” as more than one guest agreed, and it was pleasant to be indoors on this cool summer’s evening.
Just after Miss Mackin sent around the whisper that there remained only “a few minutes more,” the Bobolinks were attracted by a rather familiar drawl stealing in from a window opened on the porch.
“Sounds like——”
“It is,” interrupted Cleo. “Here they come!”
“Our dear friends, Buzz and Fuss,” finished Julia. “And please observe!”
This was whispered and actually reached only those ears very close to her, but it seemed as if some magic announcement had been made, for the entrance of those two young women immediately brought a charge of eyes focussed directly at them.