There was still time after the pleasant ride home for a good frolic with Rosa Marie and a cozy meal with Mrs. Crane; strangely enough, everybody was again hungry enough to enjoy the big birthday cake and the good apple-sauce that went with it. Then Mr. Black carried them all home in the motor car and delivered each damsel at her own door. But only one stayed delivered, for the other three immediately ran around the block to meet at Jean's always popular home. You see, they had to talk it all over without the restraint of their host's presence.
"I think," said Mabel, ecstatically, "that Mr. Black is just too dear for words. Some folks are too stingy to live, with their automobiles and horses and never think of giving anybody a ride."
"He's certainly very generous," agreed Jean.
"Of course," ventured Marjory, meditatively, "he has plenty of money or he couldn't do nice things."
"He would anyway," declared Bettie. "It's the way he's made. Don't you remember how Mrs. Crane was always being good to people even when she was so dreadfully poor? Well, Mr. Black would be just like that, too, even if he hadn't a single dollar. He has a Santa Claus heart."
"There are folks," admitted Marjory, "that wouldn't know how to give anybody a good time if they had all the money in the world. There's Aunty Jane, for instance. She's a very good woman, with a terribly pricking conscience, and I know she'd like to make things pleasant for me if she knew how, but she doesn't, poor thing. She doesn't know a good time when she sees one. And Mrs. Howard Slater doesn't, either."
"Good-evening, girls," said Mrs. Mapes, coming in with a newspaper in her hand. "I thought I heard voices in here. Have you had a nice day? You're just in time to read the paper; there's something in it that will interest you."