He appeared a moment later, striding over the lawn. The children dashed for him, as usual.
"Johnny, Johnny!" they clamored. "She says you can stay to lunch! She says she will if you will."
With the way made so easy for her erring feet, what could Joy say but "Don't you want to?"
She did not insist.
But John accepted on the spot with unsuspecting heartiness, and Philip solved the last problem by scampering off over the rustling leaves to telephone that John wouldn't be home for luncheon.
So they had a very merry luncheon, though an occasional whiff of guilt made Joy fall silent—which was not noticeable, because Philip's conversation flowed on brightly in all the breaks, and sometimes when there weren't any.
"Want me to take you back, Joy?" John asked when they were done, looking down at her quizzically, as he had a trick of doing. "Gail must want you by this time."
"Gail!" stammered Joy. Then her courage came back, as it usually did when she summoned it, and she laughed.
"Heavens, I am discovered!" she quoted. "Why, John, you don't mean to tell me you ran away too?"
"I didn't run away," countered John. "I promised Philip yesterday that I'd stay here to luncheon with him. In fact, I think I promised to summon you. I stopped at the house to do it just now and found you here already. I explained matters to Gail, and she is up in Mother's room, having her luncheon there."