"Never mind that," interrupted Will, his eyes twinkling. "All I want is to have you repeat the first part of your speech. What was that about loving me all the rest of my life?"
"Say, what's the idea?" demanded Allen suddenly, having been engrossed in a little dream all his own. "What kind of rash promises are you asking Betty to make?"
"Well, I would," contended Betty stoutly, adding with a twinkle: "Like a sister."
"Oh," said Will, turning disappointedly away. "If that's all you have to offer me—"
"But I've got lots more than that," Betty assured him quickly. "Why, Will, if you're real good, I may even give you an extra piece of cake."
"Well, now, that's different again," cried Will, his interest rekindling.
"Will," remonstrated Grace plaintively, "I'm surprised at you. You are really getting shockingly material."
"Getting!" interjected Frank, with a grin.
"Go on, Betty, never mind this vulgar rabble—with apologies to you, sweet sister," as Grace shot an indignant glance at him. "You were saying that if I found this motorcyclist you'd give me an extra piece of cake, or words to that effect. Am I right?"
"Perfectly," laughed Betty, then added, seriously: "But, really, I think something ought to be done."