"Oh, he has conquered that difficulty," their hostess explained, her eyes once more lighting with pride in her son. "He has a sort of path through the woods, which, while it perhaps lacks the comforts of a state road, at least is not inches deep in mud. He did get caught that way once and was several hours coming a few miles."
"She said he rode a motorcycle," remarked Grace to Mollie with apparent irrelevance as the lady turned to speak to Mrs. Ford.
"Well, what about it?" inquired Mollie, as she proceeded with wonderful concentration to spear one last small but delicious piece of chocolate on the end of her fork.
"Doesn't that convey anything to your benighted mind?" Grace was drawling sarcastically when Betty leaned toward her eagerly.
"I thought his voice sounded familiar," she said. "Of course we know who he is now."
"Good evening, everybody," said the familiar voice, and they turned to find its owner strolling toward them across the room.
"Mr. Joe Barnes!" cried Mollie impulsively, then checked herself and slowly grew red.
"That's who," sang out Joe Barnes slangily, and in the laughter and greetings that followed Mollie forgot her embarrassment.
Only Joe Barnes' mother looked completely surprised and taken aback.
"You know each other, then," she rather stated than asked as there was a lull in the conversation. "I had no idea—"