"Are you Grandmother's Grace Carpenter?" she asked. "Why, you're not a bit old!"
Her mother-in-law laughed as she turned to greet her son, still holding fast to one of Joy's hands.
"I know you don't like being kissed in public, Johnny, but you know I always do it, anyhow. You good boy, to actually tell her I liked having my first name used! He never would do it, you know, Joy, dear. Phyllis and Allan—where are those two? I have their motor, commandeered it to come down in. Mine had the fender bitten off by the village trolley last night. Oh—they're putting in the children."
Joy had scarcely time to answer, but she let her mother-in-law sweep her along, and install her in the motor between herself and John, who was holding Angela because Angela insisted.
As they sped down the country lanes Joy sat very still, trying to forget that this happy time would ever stop. Giving up John was bad enough—maybe he would be friends with her afterwards if she was lucky—but giving up John's mother seemed almost too much to ask of any girl.
"I'm sure I'll never happen on a mother-in-law like this again!" thought Joy.
"How's Gail, Mother?" she heard John ask quite calmly as they turned down another leafy lane.
She flushed up, deep rose-red, as she listened for the answer.
"Just back from the city, and more rambunctious than ever," said Mrs. Hewitt briskly.
Joy clasped her hands over the wishing ring and looked off—anywhere—not to look at John or his mother. And in her anxiety she heard a husky whisper from the seat behind her, where Viola was restraining Philip and Foxy from jumping out into the landscape.