“I guess you are right, Mrs. Hadley,” admitted the girl, wearily. “But it seems dreadful to give them up—to accept defeat so soon. I like to win if the cause is worth it, no matter what the odds are against me.”
“I know you do—and you always have. Your courage is marvellous, Marjorie. But this is something different from anything you have ever attempted; it is almost beyond human power.”
“And yet,” interposed the girl, “I am sure that Mr. Richards thinks it could be done.”
“Yes—the Boy Scout master who came to talk to the girls last week.”
Mrs. Hadley shut her lips tightly; she remembered that John had mentioned the young man, and had hinted that he had captivated Marjorie.
“He isn’t thinking of you, dear. You must not sacrifice yourself.”
“But that’s the whole spirit of scouting!” flashed Marjorie. “If I thought that were all that is hindering me, I wouldn’t give it up. Mrs. Hadley, will you let me talk to him on the telephone, and—and—tell him my troubles?”
“Certainly,” acceded her hostess graciously. “But wouldn’t John do? He’ll be home about nine o’clock.”
“I’d like to have the opinion of both,” answered Marjorie, smiling for the first time. Something of her usual spirit was returning.
They talked of other things, of college, of Mrs. Hadley’s varied interests, of John’s work, until Margaret felt that she might try her luck at the telephone.
“This is Marjorie Wilkinson,” she said, in answer to Mr. Richards’ cheery “Hello!” “And I want to tell you my troubles.”
“Of course,” returned the other. “We all have ’em, you know; even the leaders of the so-called model troops. And you couldn’t hope to escape.”
“You know how pleased I was with your talk the other night, as I told you over the phone, but how discouraged I was with the rest of the meeting, when I tried to teach some of the practical things.”
“Yes, and I reminded you that that was to be expected.”
“I realized that,” admitted Marjorie. “But today I had a real disappointment. My girls actually got so bored with me on our hike that they ran away!”
“Then girls are as hard to manage as boys?” he demanded. “I never realized it before, but I believe it now!”
“Yes, and sometimes when six or eight promised to show up for some shindig, nobody came at all! It’s all in the day’s work.”