"I think I'll run in and scare up some sort of a hot drink, if you'll excuse me?"
"Now, Charlie, don't," the girl asked, suddenly. "I don't like it."
"Oh, one won't hurt," he replied, lightly.
"I shan't speak to you when you come out," she insisted, half banteringly.
"Oh, yes, you will." He laughed, and passed into the house.
Miss Melrose tossed her pretty head impatiently and turned to watch the approaching lights. They were blinding as they drew nearer, clearly revealing her figure, in its tan auto coat, to the occupant of the other car. The newcomer stopped and then she heard whoever was in it--she couldn't see--speaking to her.
"Would you mind turning your car a little so I can run in off the road?"
"I don't know how," she replied, helplessly.
There was a little pause. The occupant of the other car was leaning forward, looking at her closely.
"Is that you, Marguerite?" he asked finally.