The Outdoor Girls at Bluff Point Part 24

"Well, I guess all we can do now is just sit still and wait till somebody wants us," said Betty, sitting down irresolutely and folding her hands. It was this last action that reminded her of the letter from Joe Barnes which she had not yet read. Although she had been holding it in her hand all the while, she had completely forgotten there was such a person as the writer.

At her exclamation Mollie looked up rather listlessly.

"That's so," she said. "You never did find out whether or not Joe Barnes had been accepted. Tell me about it. I'd welcome a diversion--a cyclone or a tidal wave or anything--if it would only get my mind off our troubles."

"I'll guarantee it would be effective," returned Betty absently, as she took up the closely written pages. "It would be like burning yourself to make you forget you have a toothache."

There was silence for a long while, broken only by the sound of the waves breaking on the sh.o.r.e and the crackling of the paper as Betty turned page after page.

It was a long letter, filled with youthful enthusiasm. In it the youth spoke his pleasure in meeting her and his hope that she would not only answer this letter but would allow him to write to her often.

But over and above all the great fact stood out that he had been accepted! The doctors had looked him over and declared him fit in every respect to serve his country.

As Betty read the last glowing sentence a sob broke from her and she buried her head in her arms. Mollie went over to her quickly.

"What is it?" she asked anxiously, putting an arm about the Little Captain. "You haven't had bad news too, have you, Betty?"

"N-no," sobbed Betty, raising eyes that were s.h.i.+ning through her tears.

"I just love them so--all those splendid boys that are so crazy to give their lives for their country, that my heart gets too full sometimes, that's all."

"Then I take it that Joe Barnes has been accepted," Mollie rather stated than asked.

"Yes," said Betty, feeling for a handkerchief. "And he is simply wild with joy, Mollie," she added, while the color flooded her face. "The Germans simply can't last long with that spirit against them. It makes our boys indomitable!"

CHAPTER XIX

BETTY CONFESSES

Betty woke up the next morning with a sense of deadly depression weighing her down. For a few moments she lay staring up at the ceiling trying to collect her thoughts. Then the events of the day before came back to her and she frowned unhappily.

The whereabouts of poor little Dodo and Paul was still a mystery, and Will Ford, whom she had come to regard almost as a brother, was terribly wounded somewhere in France. She probably would never see him again.

And there was Allen too, to worry about every minute of the day and night. She had not heard from him in--oh, ages. Yes, it must be every bit of two weeks since she had read his last letter. For all she knew, he might be worse off than poor Will.

"Oh, well," she sighed, and, turning on her side, looked out of the window.

There was no relief there from the gloom of her thoughts, for the sky was leaden and overcast, looking as if it, too, were mourning for the troubles of the world, and the surf beat loud and threateningly on the sh.o.r.e.

"Guess it's going to rain and make things still more cheerful," she said, and at the sound Grace opened heavy eyes and turned over restlessly.

"What are you mumbling about?" she asked sleepily, closing her eyes again and sighing a little.

"Nothing but the weather," replied Betty, adding, with unusual gentleness: "It's early, so you can turn over and get forty winks."

"What has happened to you?" asked Grace, opening her eyes again in surprise at this unheard of advice. Then as the full force of her trouble came home to her she turned over noisily and burrowed her head into the pillow.

"Guess I will," she said in a m.u.f.fled voice. "Don't any one dare wake me up till they have some good news to tell me. I'm going to be another Rip Van Winkle."

"Goodness, I hope it won't be that long before we have any good news,"

said Betty, trying to speak lightly. This would never do, she thought.

They simply had to find some way out of this terrible slough of despondency before it mastered them completely.

"I'm going to get up," she announced briskly, jumping out of bed. "I've got to find something to keep me busy till that good news of ours feels like coming along. I'm getting absolutely morbid just sitting around and thinking."

"Well, what is there to do?" asked Grace, rolling over and regarding her listlessly.

"There's the house to be put in order," Betty pointed out, recovering a little of her old spirits, now that she had decided on a definite plan of action. "And we never have really unpacked our trunks because Mollie has been undecided about staying."

"Yes, I know. And my clothes are a perfect wreck. I haven't a thing to put on that doesn't look as if it had been through the wars," Grace agreed. "Not that it really matters," she added indifferently.

"Of course it makes a difference," returned Betty sharply. She was determined to rouse Grace out of her lethargy, no matter what means she had to take. "Don't you know that when you are dressed neatly and becomingly everything seems brighter and more hopeful? And, anyway," she added, watching Grace out of the corner of her eye, "it isn't like you to be careless about your dress."

"Well, it isn't like me either to go moping around as if I had one foot in the grave and the other was slipping," retorted Grace, with a spirit that showed the experiment had worked. "I don't think it's nice for you to make remarks like that when you know how I'm feeling and the excuse I have."

"n.o.body has any excuse for giving up and acting as if everything were lost when it isn't," said Betty decidedly. "If our soldiers did that the first time they had to retreat, how long do you suppose our army would last?"

"But Will isn't your brother," insisted Grace stubbornly. "If he were, maybe you would feel differently."

There was a moment's pause.

"No he isn't my brother," returned Betty, knowing she was going to hurt her friend but believing that the result would justify the means. "But if he were I would try to behave so that when he came back he would have a right to be proud of me."

"Betty Nelson!" Grace sprang out of bed with her eyes blazing, "do you know what you are saying? Do you mean that if Will should come back, he wouldn't be proud of me?"

"Not if you keep on taking your trouble lying down," said Betty, sticking gamely to her guns, though she was a little frightened at the success of her experiment.

"I may," she thought to herself, "have done not wisely, but too well."

However, after one outraged and enraged stare at Betty, Grace pointedly turned her back and began hastily to pull on her clothes. She finished dressing before Betty, and without a word left the room.

"Now you have done it, Betty, my dear," said Betty making a little face at her pretty reflection in the mirror. "I shouldn't wonder if Grace would never speak to you again. Poor Gracie, perhaps I shouldn't have said what I did, but I simply had to start something."

On her way downstairs she tapped at Mollie's door and found that she and Amy were both up and dressing.

"Come in," called Mollie; "I need your help. Amy's eyes are so swollen,"

she explained, as Betty obeyed, "that she can't see to do me up. Just the middle one, Betty. That's a dear."

As Betty obligingly did the "middle one" she stole a glance at Amy, who was absently doing up her hair without looking in the mirror.

"Look out!" she cried suddenly, making both the girls jump. "You nearly stuck that hairpin in your eye, Amy," she explained, as they looked at her reproachfully, "and that isn't the place for it you know."

Amy smiled a crooked little smile and put the unruly hairpin in the right place.

"I'm apt to do anything to-day," she said, with a sigh that seemed to come from her toes. "If any of you want to live, you had just better keep out of my way, that's all."