"
The girls started, looked surprised, then instantly responded to the
challenge of her lighter tone.
"Goodness, it's you who made us forget them, Betty Nelson," cried Grace,
squeezing the Little Captain's hand fondly, then falling to with a will on
her own momentarily neglected mail. "Just see," she added wickedly,
holding up two letters with the coveted foreign postmark before their
envious eyes, "what an advantage it is to have a brother in the army as
well as a--a--"
"Well, go ahead," Betty teased, while the others laughed delightedly at
her flaming color. "What is that other thing you've got besides a brother,
the mere mention of whose name makes you the color of a beet?--I should
say," correcting herself with a demure little smile, "the color of a
flaming sunset--"
"That would be more poetic," agreed Mollie soberly, while her eyes danced.
"But either description would be correct."
"You geese," cried Grace, trying vainly to hide her flushed face behind
the letter she had opened. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking
about."
"She remindeth me of the graceful ostrich," chanted Mollie cruelly, "who
hideth his head and thinks thereby--"
"Now I know you're calling me names," cried Grace, raising the flushed
face and glaring threateningly at the back of the mischievous Mollie.
"Well, she at least said you were graceful," chuckled Betty, tearing open
a letter from Deepdale and still reserving the best till the last.
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