The new Scout candidates soon passed their Tenderfoot test, and registered at National Headquarters as regular members of Pansy troop. Lucy Graham, the senior, was elected patrol leader of the new patrol, and Doris Sands received the office of corporal.

The last meeting before spring vacation was held. After the usual preliminary business had been concluded, Captain Phillips said that she had several interesting announcements to make.

“To-morrow,” she said, “instead of our usual outing, we are going down in the village to Mrs. Burd’s house to cook our own supper. You know every girl has to cook something satisfactorily as a part of her second-class test; and I wasn’t quite sure how to give you the opportunity, when my friend Mrs. Burd came to the rescue, and offered us her kitchen for to-morrow night, while she and the rest of her family are away.

“Now,” she continued, after the girls had discussed her proposition for several minutes, “I have something to tell you that I know will interest you all. I have chosen the play we are going to give after spring vacation!”

“Oh, what is it?” cried Ruth informally, forgetting the usual ceremony of address.

But Miss Phillips did not notice the departure from discipline. Perhaps too, she was too much interested in her subject to be aware of it.

“‘Everygirl,’” she replied, holding up a copy of the play. “I think you are going to like it; and if you do well with it, it will surely bring credit to the whole school!”

She opened the pamphlet she was holding, and read off a list of symbolic characters. “Of course the play is an allegory; ‘Everygirl’ just represents any girl, who meets with good and evil, and who has to choose her companions and her course through life. There are a good many parts to the play, so I hope you will all be able to be in it. Of course, the main part is that of Everygirl, the heroine.”

“Captain,” said Frances, rising and saluting, “please tell me how you are going to select the girls for the parts, and whether we shall be able to study them over spring vacation.”

“I am going to select the characters at a try-out to-morrow afternoon; so will everybody please come to the Gym right after lunch?”

“I used to be in plays at home,” remarked Ruth. “I suppose that will help, won’t it?”

“We’ll see to-morrow,” replied Miss Phillips. “Now, one thing more before we take our second-class tests: I want to arrange about our cabin party with the Boy Scouts. School reopens April fifteenth, which is on Wednesday; so all the Girl Scouts are to come back here on Tuesday morning. Get here before twelve o’clock. The housekeeper, Mrs. Rock, is going to give us a light lunch, and we are to change into our scout uniforms, take a trolley to Bear’s Hill and hike to the cabin. Each girl is to bring her own mess-kit, and wear warm clothes; the Boy Scouts prepare the rest.”

Ruth’s eyes danced. “How many Boy Scouts are there?” she asked.

“I think they have a full troop—four patrols—thirty-two boys—but they are going to take only the sixteen with the highest standing. Their Scoutmaster, Mr. Remington, told me all the boys were crazy to go; but he didn’t want their numbers to overwhelm us. Now, girls, unless there are some important questions, we will not talk about these things any longer, but will prepare to take the written part of the second-class test. And before I forget it, will you bring your samples of sewing, crocheting, and knitting over to the Gym to-morrow afternoon for me to examine. Then after supper to-morrow night, I ought to be able to announce the names of the girls who have passed the test.”

Ethel arose excitedly. “Captain,” she said, “the handbook says we need submit either knitting or crocheting; so we don’t have to bring both, do we?”

“Scout Todd,” answered Miss Phillips, “if you remember correctly, I announced several months ago, that no girl in Pansy troop could become a second-class scout without submitting samples of both knitting and crocheting. You all know our standards are very high, and Miss Allen and I both agreed that in all the cases where the handbook gave a choice of two alternatives, we would require both. It is entirely fair, because it is the same for everybody. Do you understand?”

Ruth sat perfectly still; but she saw her hopes of wearing the green clover badge home at vacation fading, for though she knit splendidly, she had never done a stitch of crocheting in her life.

Miss Phillips distributed the paper, and the girls gave their attention to the written part of the test.

As they were getting ready for lunch the next day, Ethel asked Ruth whether she could crochet.

“Yes,” replied Ruth, after a slight hesitation. “And have you something ready to take this afternoon?”

Ruth opened her drawer, and took out a square of filet. “I haven’t done much of it, but I guess it’s enough to show Captain Phillips what I can do!”

“How pretty,” said Ethel admiringly. “Oh, Ruth, couldn’t you teach me; I do so want to get that second-class badge!”

“I’d love to,” replied Ruth; “but I can’t before to-night, because it’s pretty hard to learn, and I want to practice for the play. I think I stand some chance of getting the heroine’s part, if I read it over several times. But I wouldn’t if Marj Wilkinson were in the troop. She’s a peach at dramatics!”

Ethel was disappointed, but decided to wait until spring vacation to learn. She was not, however, the only girl to fail to win the second-class badge for this reason. When the scouts met a few hours later in the Gym, it transpired that Ruth and two others were the only ones to produce samples of their work.

“May I have my crocheting back as soon as you have inspected it, Captain?” asked Ruth. “I want to work on it.”

“Certainly,” replied Miss Phillips, “you can have it now, for that matter.”

The try-outs for the play lasted all afternoon; after each girl read a number of different parts, Miss Phillips excused them; but most of the girls preferred to wait to hear the results of the Captain’s decisions. Finally, a little before five o’clock, she read the characters as she had selected them, and Ruth was disappointed to hear that Helen Stewart was awarded the part of “Everygirl.” Her companions crowded around her with congratulations; and Ruth, who had resolutely put her own feelings aside, remembering that “a scout is cheerful,” was among them.

In less than half an hour’s time, the girls re-assembled to accompany Miss Phillips to Mrs. Burd’s home. They found it charming, just the sort of house a girl dreams of having some day—with everything bright, and shining, and new. The kitchen was small, but several of the girls took their work into the shed or the dining-room, so that all of the sixteen scouts were never in it at once.

Miss Phillips had very cleverly prepared a menu that required many extras; there was soup, two vegetables, cream sauce and gravy, salad, salad-dressing, muffins, cocoa, and dessert; so that all the girls had the opportunity to show their skill in cooking. Miss Phillips directed the work, which was fortunate for such inexperienced cooks, and everything turned out splendidly. The dinner was a great success.

As soon as the soup was on the table, the girls took off their aprons and sat down; each course was served by the girls who had prepared it. The appetizing smell of the food, and the excitement of the experiment, made them all hungry; they laughed and chatted gaily as they ate, their flushed faces testifying the joy of their success.

When dessert had been served, Miss Phillips said, “I certainly want to congratulate you all on your splendid dinner. I can see already that no man who marries a Girl Scout of Pansy troop ever need worry about his future happiness.”

The girls laughed, and Ethel looked significantly at Doris, as if to indicate that she would probably be the first to have the chance to prove this fact.

“I wish I could pass you all on every part of your second-class test,” continued Miss Phillips, “as easily as I can on your cooking. But unfortunately, I can award only three green clovers to-night: to Helen Stewart, Ruth Henry, and Doris Sands!”

She paused while the girls clapped. Producing three badges from the pocket of her uniform, she requested the three girls to stand up.

“We will have the formal ceremony the first Friday after spring vacation; but I know that you girls are anxious to wear your badges at the cabin party, so I am going to give them to you now. Sew them on your left sleeve,” she concluded.

After the dishes had been cleared away, and the dining-room and kitchen made spotless, the girls sang some songs around the piano in the living-room, and then proceeded to get ready to go back to the school.

“The plays will be here by Monday,” said Miss Phillips, as she bade the girls good night. “Be sure to get your copies to take home with you.”

The next morning Ruth told Ethel that she had a headache, and intended to ask for permission to stay away from church.

“Too much party, I guess,” said Ethel, as she put on her hat. “You better lie down till noon!”

But it was not the result of the party that was keeping Ruth at home; she had an important errand to perform, for which she needed the desertion of Sunday morning.

She waited until all was quiet in the hall; then taking a small article out of her bureau drawer, she walked quickly over to Marjorie’s room. She was so sure that the latter would be at church, that she opened the door without knocking. To her great surprise, Marjorie suddenly sat up in bed.

“Hullo, Ruth!” she exclaimed. “What time is it? I guess I must have overslept! Lily went over to stay all night with Helen Stewart, so I hadn’t anybody to waken me.”

Ruth was extremely taken back by Marjorie’s presence, but concealed her embarrassment, and took advantage of the other girl’s sleepiness to drop, unnoticed, the article she held in her hand behind one of the pillows on Lily’s cot.

“It’s after eleven o’clock! You’ll never make church now!” she said.

“Eleven o’clock!” cried Marjorie, jumping out of bed. “Oh, my goodness, another unexcused absence!”

“Marj,” said Ruth slowly, “can I borrow your ‘Tales from Shakespeare’? I got permission to stay home for a headache; but I’m better now, and I want to look up something.”

“Surely—it’s down on the bottom shelf. You don’t mind if I hurry?”

“No, indeed; I have to go anyhow. Good luck to you! Good-bye!”

When Marjorie and Lily returned together from church at noon, the first thing that struck Lily’s eye after she sat down on her cot was Marjorie’s lost crocheting.

“Here’s your square of filet, Marj!” she exclaimed, picking up the piece. “It was behind the pillow! I wonder how long it’s been there—and we never saw it!”

“But I did look there, before,” protested Marjorie. “Anyway,” she added, putting it into her work bag, “I’m glad to have it to take home with me.”