“Oh, I don’t think things are as bad as all that!” she said. He sensed her withdrawal, and they left the Modern Girl to return to Modern Education.
They started back when the sun began to gleam redly through the trees. The way seemed shorter than coming, and they talked more, whirling through a world of fiery golden sun. Before they had even thought of opening the luncheon basket, they were back at the beach house where Betty with an accusing face awaited them on the piazza.
“We’re back,” said Joy. The sun had gone, and everything seemed suddenly grey and flat.
Betty came dashing down to them. “Do you call this nice, to go off and leave me for a whole day?” she demanded, pouting. “Lucky mother and father haven’t got back yet. And now you’ll have to hurry like everything to get ready for the dance!”
They realized that she was in evening dress.
“Oh, yes, there’s a dance to-night,” said Grant intelligently.
“There usually is, Saturday nights at the club house,” Betty retorted with fine sarcasm appreciated by no one but herself. “I’m not going to wait for you two—here comes my man now and there’s a wonderful orchestra!” She waved to her “man,” a gentleman about town, possibly all of seventeen, who was boiling up the driveway in a racer, and ran off to meet him.
Joy and Grant looked at each other. “I had forgotten all about the dance,” said Grant.
“Let’s not go!” It was Joy who spoke impulsively. “I—I dance so much up in town—and it’s so beautiful just here, by the sea——”
But the golden day had faded, the perfect moment passed. “We ought to go,” Grant considered. “Mother would think Betty and I weren’t entertaining you very well. Besides, there are some duty dances I’ve got to work off, that mother’s been after me about for a long time.”