re being said, not only with lips, but with
eyes and clasping hands, Allen bent nearer to Betty's little, upturned
face.

[Illustration: "IT MAY BE A LONG TIME, BUT--I'M COMING BACK." _The Outdoor
Girls at the Hostess House. page 145_]

"It may be a long, long time, little girl," he whispered, gravely,
"but--I'm coming back. And, Betty, I have your picture--that little
snapshot you gave me, the laughing one, you remember?"

Betty nodded, smiling bravely while she choked back something deep down in
her throat.

"And--" his eyes had grown very wistful, "and--I'm counting on some
letters from you, Betty?"

"Oh, Allen," she cried breathlessly, "I'll write you all the time, dear,
every day--"

But he had caught both her hands in his and was drawing her irresistibly
toward him.

"'Dear,'" he was repeating dizzily, incredulously. "Did you call me that,
Betty? Did you say 'dear'?"

"Y-yes," she nodded, breathless, a little frightened, yet adorably brave.
Why, this was Allen, and he was going away! He might be killed over there!
She might never see him again! "And," she added, looking up into his eyes
with a shy recklessness, "I--I'd say it again, Allen, if you asked me--"

With a little cry he drew her to him, and for one unbelievable, breathless
second his lips rested on hers.

"Betty, Betty, I love you," he whispered unsteadily. "I'll be dreaming of
you always. Whatever I do 'over there' will be because of you--" The
whistle shrieked a rude warning and his hands tightened on hers. They
were both trembling a little.

"Good-bye," he whispered hoarsely. "I--love--you--" then he tore himself
away, swinging up the steps and into the car.

The train began to move amid a great storm of cheering and waving of
service hats. Betty saw it all dimly, through a mist of tears. She pressed
her hand against her lips to still their trembling.

"Good-bye, dear," she murmured brokenly.

CHAPTER XVIII

AFTER THE BOYS LEFT

"Well--it's--over," sighed Grace, as they made their way slowly down the
platform to where the machine stood waiting. "I feel as though I'd like to
go home and cry for a week without stopping."

"Favorite indoor sport," retorted Mollie, wiping her own eyes impatiently.
"I'm sure the boys would admire us for doing that."

"I don't think they'd admire us very much if they could see us now,"
sighed Amy, dabbing a rather red nose with a generous portion of talcum
powder. "Crying is so terribly damag