Many looked sadly at Dorothy and with pity at Tavia.  Certainly these two girls deserved to march.  Dorothy had done so much to help, in fact some of the girls knew she had helped the major with all the letter writing, inviting the Rochester men, and sending instructions to the firemen.  And to think that now, at the last moment, she should be debarred!

And Tavia too, had been so happy at the prospect of the parade.  Poor Tavia!  Everybody knew she had a hard time of it, anyway, only for Dorothy, who always helped her out.

“Now, young ladies,” said Miss Ellis, as the last girl passed out, “you may fall in at the end.”

“I don’t care to,” Dorothy spoke up, wiping her eyes.

“But I say you must!”

“Do,” whispered Tavia, “we can see them anyway.”

This was enough for Dorothy.  Both girls stood up, straightened out their crushed dresses, patted their red eyes with their handkerchiefs, and fell in at the end of the line.

“I don’t care a bit,” said Dorothy smiling.  “I would just as soon be with you any way.  And besides, we will be right next to the Veterans.”

“Oh, good,” answered her companion, “I would rather be there than up front.  Only, of course, you should lead.”

The Dalton Drum and Fife Corps was playing loudly.  There seemed something very solemn about the lively tune in honor of the “Boys” who had answered their last roll call.  Tavia’s eyes were swimming, and not a freckle was to be seen beneath the deep red color that framed them.

Dorothy could not talk.  It was so sad—­that soldiers had to die just like other persons.  She prayed her “Daddy” would not be called for years and years.

At the corner of the street the school children were joined by the main column.  The veterans fell in—­back of Dorothy and Tavia!

Major Dale was grand marshal, and of course came first.  He looked surprised at seeing his daughter—­his Little Captain, last in line with the children.

Then he glanced at Tavia.  It was certainly something for which she was responsible he was sure, for Dorothy had told him she had remained away from school and missed the last rehearsal.  “Halt,” called the major, and his men stood still.

At a signal the entire ranks waited.  Miss Ellis stepped up to the marshal smiling.  She had evidently forgotten his daughter had lost her place.

“I need two girls to carry the end flags,” he began.  “These old men have all they can do to travel.  The flags are not heavy—­here, the two last girls will do nicely!”

Dorothy and Tavia stepped to the sides and gracefully took the flags from the hands of the aged soldiers.

The only girls who could carry real army flags!  And walk on either side of the marshal leading the Veterans!

“If I only could stick my tongue out just once more at Sarah,” whispered Tavia, as she crossed back of the marshal to her place.