In the meanwhile, Allen was whispering into Betty's almost reluctant
little ear.
"Did you really mean what you said about its being glorious to give
yourself for a great cause?" he asked softly.
"Why, I--g-guess so," she stammered, taken off her guard. "Why?"
"Oh, just because," he answered vaguely, watching the elusive little
dimple at the corner of her mouth, "I might want to remind you of it--some
day."
CHAPTER X
ALARMING SYMPTOMS
The girls awoke one morning several days later--days of routine duty at
the Hostess House--with the delightful sensation of something good
impending. Crowded as they were in the one big room for Mrs. Sanderson's
accommodation, they had formed the habit of talking over their prospective
fun before the actual work and hurry and bustle of the day began.
So it was this morning, just after the sun had streamed in through the two
big east windows and settled on the tip of Betty's upturned little nose in
a most provocative manner.
Sleepily she rubbed a hand across her face, then sneezed.
"Goodness, she's got the 'flu'!" cried Grace in alarm, as she sat up in
bed, jerking the covers from her now fully aroused bedfellow. "Amy!
Mollie! Get me a gas mask, somebody!"
"I think it's poor Betty that needs the gas mask," retorted Mollie dryly.
"I never heard you talk so much this early in the morning since the first
day of our acquaintance, Grace.
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