"No, I don't," said Clarence. "But, Joy dear, if we do——"
The mockery was all out of his voice.
"Oh, don't talk about it!" she exclaimed. "Surely somebody will come get us—or couldn't we go up this road till we find a farmhouse?"
"If you like," said Clarence.
They rose and walked on for a while.
"Oh, listen!" Joy whispered. "I hear something!"
"It's a car," said Clarence hopefully.
And it was. It was John's car, with John in it, and the temper Joy had been thinking of tenderly was with him. He was evidently thoroughly angry, for he scarcely spoke, even when he found them.
"See here, Hewitt," Clarence protested. "You aren't doing the thing at all properly. You should say, 'My own! At last I have found you!' instead of backing up the car with a short sentence like that."
What John had said, as a matter of fact, was, "Get in the car. It's late."