"Ah, heartless one--" Mollie was beginning, when with a laugh Betty hooked
an arm through hers and hustled the dramatic one in very undramatic
fashion, up the steps into the Hostess House.

"Oh, Betty, you are so impulsive," sighed Mollie, as she was finally
permitted a chair in the kitchen. "If you don't stop rushing around so
you'll have me worn to skin and bones--"

"Goodness, have you got those things, too?" asked Betty, as she hurried
busily from table to pantry and back again. "Please don't be so lazy,
Mollie dear. The boys will be here before we're half ready, and we don't
want to lose a minute of this perfect day."

Harder heart than Mollie's must have softened at this appeal, and she set
to work with a will preparing delicacies for this picnic with the
boys--perhaps the thought was accompanied by a strange, panicky sinking
of the heart--the very last picnic they would have together, at least
until after the war.

"Did Allen have any more news for you, yesterday?" Mollie asked suddenly,
following up this train of thought.

"No, nothing definite," the Little Captain responded, deftly slipping
currant jelly into layers of buttered biscuit. "Of course, he said there
were all sorts of rumors, but since they all came from equally good
sources and no two of them pointed the same way, he wasn't listening to
any of them. All they really know is that the regiment is all ready and
equipped and will surely be on its way very soon."

"I'm not even thinking of it," said Mollie, slamming down the cover of the