CHAPTER VI
AT FORT MYER
“This way, sir; your seats are in the upper gallery,” announced a cavalry corporal. “Right up here, miss,” and he assisted Janet up the first steps of the narrow stairway, then made way for Chichester Barnard who followed her. “Let me see your tickets, please,” continued the corporal as Duncan Fordyce appeared at his elbow, Marjorie in his wake. “Very sorry, sir, but these seats are in the north gallery at the other end of the riding-hall. You’ll have to go outside to get there, sir.”
“Thundering devils!” ejaculated Duncan, taking back the two pink pasteboards. “Mrs. Walbridge sold mother these four tickets. I supposed the seats were all together. Wait here just a minute, Miss Marjorie, and I’ll run out to the ticket agent and see if I can’t exchange these seats for others on this side of the hall.”
Marjorie nodded a cheerful assent, and in Duncan’s absence watched the new arrivals swarming into the building. The annual drill, given under the auspices of the Woman’s Army Relief Society, was a great event, not only at Fort Myer but in the National Capital and Georgetown as well, and fashionable society had apparently turned out en masse to attend it.
“Splendid success, Marjorie,” boomed a voice close to her ear, and turning she recognized Mrs. Walbridge, majestic in her ermine coat and nearly two hundred pounds avoirdupois. “The ticket committee told me the President and most of his Cabinet will be here. The hall is sold out. Haven’t you a seat, child?”
“Yes, I am waiting for——” the name was lost in the slamming down of chairs and the stamping of feet.
“That’s all right,” exclaimed Mrs. Walbridge, much relieved. “I couldn’t have you stand. Be sure and bring your escort over to the Administration Building for tea after the drill,” and she moved ponderously down the aisle to her seat.
“Sorry to have been so long,” apologized Duncan, rejoining Marjorie. “I succeeded in exchanging my tickets for two seats in this lower section. Come on,” but Marjorie held back, and her face grew troubled.
“Hadn’t I better go upstairs and sit with your sister, and let Mr. Barnard join you in these lower seats?” she asked.
“You take your chaperonage too seriously,” declared Duncan firmly. “I hardly ever see you alone, Miss Marjorie, and now Fate has given me a chance to enjoy myself, I decline to have your New England conscience spoil my fun. But if it will make you feel any easier, I’ll run up and tell Barnard where we are sitting. Here, Corporal, show this lady to her chair,” and he turned and dashed upstairs.