I miss. And--and besides she's got Ashley and I--I haven't got

anybody!" And at this fresh woe, she broke into renewed outcries.

She remained gloomily in her room until afternoon and then the

sight of the returning picnickers with wagons piled high with pine

boughs, vines and ferns did not cheer her. Everyone looked

happily tired as they waved to her again and she returned their

greetings drearily. Life was a hopeless affair and certainly not

worth living.

Deliverance came in the form she least expected when, during the

after-dinner-nap period, Mrs. Merriwether and Mrs. Elsing drove

up. Startled at having callers at such an hour, Melanie, Scarlett

and Aunt Pittypat roused themselves, hastily hooked their basques,

smoothed their hair and descended to the parlor.

"Mrs. Bonnell's children have the measles," said Mrs. Merriwether

abruptly, showing plainly that she held Mrs. Bonnell personally

responsible for permitting such a thing to happen.

"And the McLure girls have been called to Virginia," said Mrs.

Elsing in her die-away voice, fanning herself languidly as if

neither this nor anything else mattered very much. "Dallas McLure

Is wounded."

"How dreadful!" chorused their hostesses. "Is poor Dallas--"

"No. Just through the shoulder," said Mrs. Merriwether briskly.

"But it couldn't possibly have happened at a worse time. The

girls are going North to bring him home. But, skies above, we

haven't time to sit here talking. We must hurry back to the

Armory and get the decorating done. Pitty, we need you and Melly

tonight to take Mrs. Bonnell's and the McLure girls' places."

"Oh, but, Dolly, we can't go."

"Don't say 'can't' to me, Pittypat Hamilton," said Mrs.

Merriwether vigorously. "We need you to watch the darkies with

the refreshments. That was what Mrs. Bonnell was to do. And

Melly, you must take the McLure girls' booth."

"Oh, we just couldn't--with poor Charlie dead only a--"

"I know how you feel but there isn't any sacrifice too great for

the Cause," broke in Mrs. Elsing in a soft voice that settled

matters.

"Oh, we'd love to help but--why can't you get some sweet pretty

girls to take the booths?"

Mrs. Merriwether snorted a trumpeting snort.

"I don't know what's come over the young people these days. They

have no sense of responsibility. All the girls who haven't

already taken booths have more excuses than you could shake a

stick at. Oh, they don't fool me! They just don't want to be

hampered in making up to the officers, that's all. And they're

afraid their new dresses won't show off behind booth counters. I

wish to goodness that blockade runner--what's his name?"

"Captain Butler," supplied Mrs. Elsing.

"I wish he'd bring in more hospital supplies and less hoop skirts

and lace. If I've had to look at one dress today I've had to look

at twenty dresses that he ran in. Captain Butler--I'm sick of the

name. Now, Pitty, I haven't time to argue. You must come.

Everybody will understand. Nobody will see you in the back room

anyway, and Melly won't be conspicuous. The poor McLure girls'

booth is way down at the end and not very pretty so nobody will

notice you."

"I think we should go," said Scarlett, trying to curb her

eagerness and to keep her face earnest and simple. "It is the

least we can do for the hospital."

Neither of the visiting ladies had even mentioned her name, and

they turned and looked sharply at her. Even in their extremity,

they had not considered asking a widow of scarcely a year to

appear at a social function. Scarlett bore their gaze with a

wide-eyed childlike expression.

"I think we should go and help to make it a success, all of us. I

think I should go in the booth with Melly because--well, I think