Even as Hilda tried in vain to console the others that perhaps the rain would clear off before evening so they could start early Saturday morning, the telephone bell rang. Miss Miller took up the receiver and answered the call.
“Yes, this is Miss Miller.
“They are here now, bemoaning the Fates that sent the rain to spoil their week-end camp,” said the Guide, to someone’s query on the other end of the wire.
The girls perked up their ears when they heard it related to their camp hopes.
“Oh, oh! How splendid! How good of you to bother!” the Guide beamed delightedly into the receiver.
“Will we care to come! Oh Mrs. Remington wait till I tell the girls so you can hear the Babel of sound that will crack the telephone instrument,” laughed Miss Miller, holding the instrument away from her face as she turned to address the Band.
“Mrs. Remington fears it will rain all night and to-morrow, and knowing of your plans for a mountain camp, she is as sorry as we are about the weather. But she offers us the use of the Council House at Mossy Crest for the camp. It is the great barn turned into one large room and all laid out for Woodcraft Councils. When Mr. Remington built the new barn and garage, he had this one renovated. A splendid floor for dancing and games is laid on top of the other heavy oak floor and the side-walls are all covered with burlap and decorated—but wait till you see it for yourself.”
The shout that rose in acceptance of the camp offer was distinctly heard by Mrs. Remington who laughed to herself. Miss Miller turned to accept the invitation when Zan cried:
“Tell her it is a heavenly refuge from the storm!”
The other girls laughed and Jane added: “Sort of ‘any harbour for a wreck!’”