In the end, with her long legs encased in knee-length stockings and short breeches and with a white wig, she had played the part of a Revolutionary grandfather superbly. As for Rosa, she had been every inch a boy. A girl named Mary played the fife.
And so it happened that it was in the company of Lena, Rosa, Betty, and Millie that shortly after the breakup of the parade Norma found herself tramping toward the main chapel. Her father had been taken on an inspection of the grounds.
The company in which these girls at last found themselves was a thousand strong. These girls had all completed their training and in two or three more days would scatter north, south, east, and west to take up the tasks for which they had been trained.
“It’s going to be swell!” Lena exclaimed. “We’re headed for the coast!”
“The coast!” Norma stared. “How do you know?”
“Haven’t you been told?” Millie exclaimed. “We’ve all been told. We’re to be part of an Interceptor Control—catch planes that are coming to bomb us.”
“Or spies that try to land from submarines,” Rosa exclaimed. “It will be thrilling and dangerous, I guess.”
“Only thing is,” Millie pouted, “I’m afraid there won’t be many soldiers there.”
“Soldiers?” Norma stared at her.
“Well, you do like a date now and then,” Millie drawled. “You get awfully lonesome when you don’t.”