“Do you remember, Kara? Tory is wearing a green dress to-night as upon the occasion of our first visit to this drawing-room to ask her to become a Girl Scout. Dear me, what is that commotion?”
The two girls ran over toward the window. Lance had the thoughtfulness to wheel Kara’s chair so that she might equally gratify her curiosity.
Tory had drawn up the curtain and the four of them could see a small group of figures standing in the street beneath the drawing-room window.
There was a light coating of snow on the sidewalk.
“What in the world is the matter?” Dorothy asked anxiously. “Isn’t Don one of the boys down there? I wonder what they intend?”
Lance made an odd grimace.
“Intend? Good gracious! I always felt Don had no sense of humor, but this is worse than I feared.
“Don’t you girls appreciate the fact this is to be a farewell serenade for Kara? Yet Don has read ‘Seventeen’! They are half a dozen of the Boy Scout Band.”
“It is very kind of them, I am sure; no reason for you to be so superior, Lance,” Tory answered.
Outside the musicians were beginning the strains of “Auld Lang Syne” and the little crowd inside the room were silent, Tory thrusting the girl for whom the honor was intended into the most conspicuous position and a moment later wrapping a blue scarf about her thin shoulders.