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"But we can't--"
"Well, then I'll have to take one at a time," decided Betty, tooting the horn experimentally. "Come on--who goes first?"
"Oh, come on, we'll all go," cried Mollie dancing with impatience. "You get in beside Betty, Grace, since you're afraid of the running board, and Amy and I'll hang on somewhere. Come on, Amy. Be a sport, old girl."
Amy wavered for a moment, but the challenge was too much for her, and she nodded her head in a.s.sent.
"Thank goodness I can only die once," was her cheerful comment.
So Grace climbed in beside the Little Captain, while Amy and Mollie scrambled up on the running boards and clung to the sides of the car.
Then Betty tooted the horn triumphantly and began slowly to back down the drive.
"I don't know about this," she remarked, as the car made rather zigzagging work of it. "I've driven mostly on a straight road, you know, and I'm not very expert, even if I do know all about a motor boat."
"So we see," commented Mollie wickedly, as Betty nearly backed into a flower bed at one side of the drive.
"Don't you think we'd better get off?" asked Amy. "Till you turn into the road, anyway, Betty?" she added.
"Don't you dare," cried Betty, giving the wheel a nervous little twist that caused Amy to groan and clutch the side of the car tighter. "If you make me stop now, I'll never get started again. There!" as the car slid into the roadway, hesitated a moment, then without a jar or a jerk, glided swiftly along the smooth road, gathering headway as it went. "Now we're all right."
"That was pretty work, Betty," complimented Mollie, who, as an old and experienced driver, felt capable of p.r.o.nouncing judgment. "Now let's see what this little car will do."
"Not too fast," begged Amy, as Betty slid into high gear. "Remember we're not used to this kind of traveling, and we're apt to find ourselves sitting in the road if you're not careful."
"Have you chosen your spot?" asked Betty, her eyes twinkling.
"Just the same, it might have been a good idea to have brought some cushions along," said Mollie ruefully. "We might have strapped them on and used them the way you do life savers--in case of emergency."
"My, you must be having a wonderful time," drawled Grace. "Have some candy Mollie--it may help your courage."
"My courage doesn't need any help, thank you," snapped Mollie, adding wickedly: "Just for that we ought to make you ride out here."
"Goodness, don't!" cried Betty, as she swung the car around a corner and started once more toward home. "The punishment wouldn't fit the crime, Mollie. Besides, we'll be back in a few minutes. Girls, she runs like a dream!"
"She's a wonder," agreed Mollie. "I guess there's just about no limit to the speed she's capable of."
"Do you want me to let her out?" queried Betty wickedly, but both Amy and Mollie protested vehemently.
"Some other time," said Mollie, "when we're not hanging on by our eyelids!"
A few minutes more, and they were again turning into the Nelson drive, which, by the way, Betty took much more expertly this time. As the car slowed, Amy and Mollie dropped off and Amy opened the door for Lady Grace, who descended slowly.
"Well, how do you like it?" cried Betty, jumping out in her turn and regarding her new possession with shining eyes. "Do you think she'll do?"
"Do!" they cried, and Mollie added, patting the smooth side of the car with admiring fingers:
"She's a wonder, Betty--as Roy would say, 'a perfect pippin.' Good-bye,"
she added suddenly, starting down the drive.
"Where are you going?" cried Betty, as they looked after her surprised.
"Home," she answered, adding with a chuckle: "I've got to finish cleaning my old car. It's poor old nose must be terribly out of joint."
CHAPTER VI
LIFE AND DEATH
The next morning Betty awoke to the sound of the telephone ringing imperatively in the hall. She got up, dragged the instrument from its stand and spoke drowsily into the receiver.
"h.e.l.lo--who--why, Grace, how did you happen to wake up?--Why, Grace, what is the matter, dear?--You have heard what?--Will is wounded?--Oh, Honey, how awful! Is it serious?--Never mind, don't try to tell me about it now. I'll get dressed just as fast as I can and come right over--Yes, yes, in about five minutes."
Mechanically Betty replaced the receiver on the hook and hurried back into her room. Then swiftly she began to dress.
Will! Dear old Will was wounded! That had been about all she had been able to gather from Grace's sobbing message--but that was enough. He was the first of the boys to fall out there in the trenches, and who knew but what Allen might be the next!
And here only yesterday they had been so happy, as happy as they could be with that shadow always hanging over them. This was the day, too--the incongruous thought struck Betty as she hastily pulled on her clothing--the day they had set for their trip to Bluff Point. Well, of course, it was all off now. Who wanted to go anyway?
These thoughts and many more raced through Betty's head as she put the finishing touches to her toilet and crushed a garden hat on her pretty soft hair. She was a very attractive picture as she ran down the stairs, but she neither knew it nor cared.
"Why, Betty dear, what is the meaning of the hat?" her mother inquired, smiling as her young daughter burst into the dining room. "You don't need it to eat breakfast in, you know. Who called on the 'phone?"
"I'm not going to eat breakfast, at least not right away. But there, of course, you don't know," answering her mother's look of surprise. "Grace called up and, oh, Mother, poor Will has been wounded! I don't want to c-cry," her chin quivered and she turned away for a moment to get control of the lump in her throat.
"I know, dear," said her mother, putting an understanding arm about her, "and so I'm not going to offer very much sympathy--just now. Were you going over to see Grace, poor child?"
Betty squeezed her mother's hand gratefully and nodded.
"I'll be back in a little while," she said finally, getting the better of that annoying lump. "I just want to find out all about it and give Grace my sympathy."
And the Little Captain found poor Grace in need of all the sympathy she could possibly give her. She was sitting in the darkest corner of the library, all crumpled up in a big chair, her eyes red with weeping and a damp ball of handkerchief clutched tightly in one hand.
At sight of Betty running toward her, she began to sob again, the tears running down her face unnoticed.
"Betty, Betty, I knew you'd come," she cried, as Betty knelt beside her and put two loving arms about her. "I'm so m-miserable I just don't want to live at all."
"But, Honey, it isn't nearly as bad as it might be," said Betty, trying to sooth while wanting desperately to know herself just how bad it was.
"You said he was only wounded, didn't you?"
"That's what the telegram said," Grace answered, wiping her eyes drearily. "But how do we know but what he may be dead by this time?"
"We don't know, of course," returned Betty, recovering a little of her optimism while she unostentatiously handed Grace a fresh handkerchief, "but the chances are against it."
"But perhaps they said he was just wounded to l-let us down easy," cried Grace, evidently convinced that there was no bright side to look upon.