As they followed the grassy path from the station to their abiding place two little boys in full military uniform appeared out of the tall grass of the meadows, one as a private, the other as an officer. The small private saluted the officer with precision and marched on, turning after a few steps to call back, "Mother said we might sleep in the tent to-night! The rooms are all full." The older boy gave a whoop of delight and bounded back toward the building with a most unofficer-like walk, and both disappeared inside the door. A tiny khaki dog-tent was set up in the grass by the back door, and in a moment more the two young soldiers emerged from the back door with blankets and disappeared under the brown roof with a zest that showed it was no hardship to them to camp out for the night.
There were lights in the long pleasant room, and people. Two soldiers with their girls were eating ice cream at the little tables, and around the piano a group of officers and their wives was gathered singing ragtime. Ruth's quick glance told her they were not the kind she cared for, and--how could people who were about to part, perhaps forever, stand there and sing such abominable nonsense! Yet--perhaps it was their way of being brave to the last. But she wished they would go.
The sweet-faced woman of the morning was busy behind the counter and presently she saw them and came forward: "I'm sorry! I hoped there would be a room, but that woman from Boston came. I can only give you cots out here, if you don't mind."
Mrs. Cameron looked around in a half-frightened manner, but Ruth smiled airily and said that would be all right.
They settled down in the corner between the writing table and book case and began to read, for it was obvious that they could not retire at present.
The little boys came running through and the officers corralled them and clamored for them to sing. Without any coaxing they stood up together and sang, and their voices were sweet as birds as they piped out the words of a popular song, one singing alto, the little one taking the high soprano. Ruth put down her book and listened, wondering at the lovely expressions on the two small faces. They made her think of the baby-seraphs in Michael Angelo's pictures. Presently they burst into a religious song with as much gusto as they had sung the ragtime. They were utterly without self-consciousness, and sang with the fervor of a preacher. Yet they were regular boys, for presently when they were released they went to turning hand springs and had a rough and tumble scuffle in the corner till their mother called them to order.