The girls sat on the porch until nearly dusk, when Miss Phillips suggested that they go to the movies.
“At least, if they have a theatre,” added the captain. “Alice, will you run and ask the clerk?”
In a moment the girl returned with an affirmative answer, and the whole crowd started off in the direction indicated by the clerk. The absence of trolley cars, the lack of congested traffic of any kind, made the town seem almost as quiet to the girls as the woods where they usually spent their evenings. After walking along for some minutes in silence, Lily Andrews first spoke. She stopped suddenly, right in the middle of the block, overcome by a serious thought.
“Captain Phillips!” she exclaimed abruptly, “how can we ever stay at Silvertown for ten days with nothing but our uniforms, a clean middy, and a change of underclothing?”
She uttered the last word so loudly that Miss Phillips had to caution her that it might prove embarrassing if a passer-by should hear her.
“I wondered that no one asked that question before,” she replied. “But I will put your minds at rest. Each girl will find a suit-case filled with her prettiest dresses and daintiest lingerie already there. I arranged with your mothers to pack them.”
“How wonderful!” cried Marjorie, seizing her captain’s arm ecstatically. “You always think of everything, don’t you, Miss Phillips!”
Inside the small picture-palace, they found that they could hardly refrain from laughing and talking. But they made a great effort to be quiet until they were out on the street again.
“How about ice-cream?” suggested Lily. “I’ll treat the crowd.”
Ruth, however, excused herself. “I want to stop over at the Post Office and send mother a telegram,” she said, “just to let her know I’m all right.”
“But wouldn’t a picture post-card be better?” asked Marjorie. “We can get them at the drug store, and a telegram might scare her.”
“No, she expects a telegram,” replied Ruth firmly.
The girl was truthful in one respect; she did send a telegram. However, it was not addressed to her mother, but to Harold Mason, and it contained only the word “NOW,” and was signed, “R. H.”
“And _now_,” she chuckled, as she traced her way back to the inn--“and now the real excitement begins!”
