"I'll tell you the 'unless' tomorrow morning," she answered him
sweetly, but none the less firmly.
"You are playing with me, Joy, I think," John answered in his most
diagnostic tone--the exact tone in which he would have said, "You
have smallpox, Joy, I think."
"Why, yes," she answered him demurely. "We were to, weren't we?"
"You'll have to wait out here a while; I have a case here," he told
her in a voice which held a note of endurance.
She sat quite still, after suppressing a faint impulse to ask him if
she should hold the motor. She leaned back and gave herself up to
the country sights and sounds and scents, gently ecstatic.
"Oh, Aunt Lucilla!" she was saying inwardly. "You'd be proud of me!"
Joy was actually playing--he had said so--playing with a man!
CHAPTER SEVEN
A VERY CHARMING GENTLEMAN
"You look lovely," said Phyllis heartily. She herself was radiant in
a rose satin that made her look, as her small son remarked
ecstatically, like a valentine. "Mustn't it be horrid to be a man
and always wear the same black clothes?"
"M'yes," answered Joy absent-mindedly. "If I look as nice as you do
I don't have to worry. But--but will Gail Maddox be very much
dressed?"
"She will," replied Phyllis decisively. "If I know Gail, she'll look
like a Christmas tree. But don't let that weigh on your mind, dear
child. Nobody could look better than you do, if Viola and I did
combine two of your frocks into one.
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