"I imagine that might help us all," said Betty wistfully, adding, with a touch of her old gayety: "Perhaps I can arrange it after supper."
"A cry party," she answered, and the absurdity of it made them both laugh.
In spite of the shadow hanging over them, dinner that night was a great success. Everybody pitched in, and, having acquired ravenous appetites on their long ride, did the cooking in record time, and of course everything tasted ambrosial.
After dinner they wandered out on the veranda, which was almost as big as the rest of the house put together. It was a wonderful night, with the moon so bright that it shed a magic silver radiance over everything while the lapping of the water came softly up to them.
Suddenly Mollie's hand slipped into Betty's where they stood together looking out.
"On such a night as this," breathed Mollie, scarcely above a whisper, "there should be nothing but peace in the world."
"Should be—yes," agreed Betty, a little bitterly. "But things are not always as they should be!"