"What's the postmark?" asked Amy.
Betty looked and then colored prettily as she realized who her unknown correspondent was.
"Why—why," she stammered, amazed at her own confusion, "it's sent from Bensington, but—"
"Bensington!" Grace echoed, then her eyes twinkled as the truth came to her. "So it's as bad as that, is it?"
"I don't know what you mean," said Betty, trying to look dignified and failing utterly, while Mollie and Amy continued to stare their amazement. They had forgotten completely that night spent under the hospitable roof of Mrs. Barnes, and even her son's engaging personality had faded from their minds. There had been so many things to think about and worry about. So now they both said together:
"What in the world are you two talking of?"
"Do you mean to say you really don't know?" queried Grace in a superior tone. "Have you so soon forgotten our knight of the wayside, Joe Barnes?"
"Joe Barnes," they repeated weakly, then turned their astonished gaze on Betty.
"Well, I can't help it," retorted Betty, feeling vaguely the need of defense. "I didn't ask him to."
"But how did he get your address?" asked Mollie, still staring. "Who gave it to him?"