"Not for twenty-four whole hours," she agreed soberly. "Wasn't it this
time yesterday--"

"What has yesterday to do with it?" he interrupted ardently. "I tell you
when a fellow's to be parted from the thing he wants most in the world
every twenty-four hours count--"

"Allen!" she cried, turning upon him in swift alarm, "is it settled then?
Have you learned anything definite?"

He shook his head, while his laughing eyes said things that made her turn
her own away.

"Then why," she asked, with a little pout, "do you have to scare me so?"

"Because," he answered happily, "there's nothing I like better than to
see you scared--about that," he added quickly, as she turned an indignant
glance upon him.

For a moment it seemed as if anger were there to stay, but it was
impossible to be very angry with Allen--when he looked at one like that.
At least Betty thought so.

"You'd better be careful," she said with a soft little laugh. "If you try
that too much, I may not believe you when the real time comes."

"Betty," he cried fervently, "I won't ever do it again--I promise you. At
least," he added, straightening up, while in his eyes grew a great
resolve, "not until--that real time comes!

"But what have you girls been doing this morning?" he went on, after a
pause.

The girl gave an amused but sympathetic laugh before she answered. Then
she said:

"Mollie and I have been trying to keep the hearts of three of those
recruits that came in yesterday from breaking outright. Poor boys, they're
awfully young--I believe they fibbed about their ages--and look like
cherubs. None of them has ever been away from home before, and they are
pathetically homesick. But they have told us about their homes and their
mothers and fathers and the little brothers and sisters, and Mollie has
joked with them and--Well, anyway, Allen, I believe we have made them
feel that they are not wholly friendless."

"I'm sure you have, Betty dear."

"Poor boys," went on Betty. "I presume it will get easier as they get used
to it."

"Grace has been writing letters for some of the boys who find it hard to
do that. Grace is awfully good at that. And Amy, I believe, has been
showing some girls who came down to see their brother, about the place and
trying to keep them interested during the long waits between the times
they can see the boy, who, like his sisters, is almost too timid to look
out for himself."

Admiration shone in Allen Washburn's eye