The whole party returned to the ranch on the twenty-sixth of August, five days before the scouts were scheduled to start for home. CHAPTER XIX. THE INVITATION. The five remaining days at the ranch seemed all too short to the Girl Scouts. Never had a summer passed so quickly; never did the approaching conclusion of a vacation bring so much unhappiness. It was to be the breaking up of the dear old senior patrol of Pansy troop, the severing of all their dearest ties, the beginning of a new life. All the girls seemed anxious to pack these last five days as full as possible. In spite of the fact that they were rather tired from their strenuous trip, they insisted upon riding the very first day they were back. “Please give me this afternoon!” begged John of Marjorie; for he had been looking forward to some time alone with the girl. “Just once?” But Marjorie shook her head. “No, John; I’m sorry, but I’m dying to get on my dear old horse again. You’ve no idea how I’ve missed her! Just think, I haven’t seen her for ten whole days!” “You didn’t see me for almost ten weeks, but I didn’t notice you grieving much!” argued the young man, gloomily. “But you’re not a horse--or rather, my horse!” she retorted. John knew by the sparkle of her eyes that she was teasing him, that there was no use to expect her to give up her ride. Instead, he begged her to take a walk with him after supper. “I can’t do that either,” she replied. “I have to write home.” “But that won’t take all evening!” “No, but I have other letters to write besides. And what about you--don’t you have to write to your mother, and to your friends in Cape May?” John smiled at the insinuation. How he wished Marjorie would give him an opportunity to tell Dorothy’s story. But she seemed determined to avoid seeing him alone. “No, I expect to write to mother this afternoon while you are out riding, and I have no other letters that need answering.” “Then why don’t you join our party?” inquired Marjorie. “You know why!” he replied, as if he were rather ashamed of his reason. “Because I can’t ride well enough!” “But you have to learn some time!” “I expect to learn--I am going out with Bob this afternoon. But I don’t feel ready to join your party yet.” “Nothing but pride!” teased Marjorie. “Still, have it your own way. If you don’t like our society--” “Marjorie!” he exclaimed. “You know as well as I do--oh, of course you’re only joking! But do let’s be serious! You have got to promise me one afternoon--a whole day, if possible--before we leave. May I have tomorrow?” “No, that’s a special Girl Scout celebration--our last one alone with each other. We’re going to take our lunches, and our horses, and go off for the whole day--without a single man to mar our pleasure!” “Marjorie, you’re cruel! Are you going to invent some excuse for every day? I wanted to have a good talk with you alone, to tell you about Dorothy Snyder--”