"They've been away three hours. I went over to the sheds and started a motor boat to search for them. They are beginning to realize over there that something may have happened." "Did Justin ask Betty while you were with her?" "No. He simply showed us around, and said he'd walk home with her. Oh, the young fool, the young fool. He can risk his own life if he chooses--but he had no right to take--that child----" The telephone rang, and Sophie, answering, found Justin at the other end. "We're at Gloucester, safe and sound. I'm awfully sorry if you've worried, Mrs. Martens. But I could not get to a 'phone before this. We'll come back by train, and Betty says you're not to wait dinner. We'll get something here. We're all right, really--only sorry if you are upset." "We are very much upset," Sophie told him, severely. "Anthony is here, and he is extremely anxious." "He needn't worry," grimly. "I can take care of her." Mrs. Martens, explaining the situation to Anthony a few minutes later, refrained, tactfully, from giving Justin's exact words. Anthony dined with her, then went off to see Miss Matthews, who had asked him to prescribe for her cold. "Call me up when Bettina comes," he said, as he left. Sophie promised, and watched him drive away in his little car. She had never seen him so nervous, so irritable. Was this what the thwarting of his life would mean--that he would let go of the serenity which had made his presence a benediction to his little world? Or was it really love for Bettina which so disturbed him? Stranger things had happened. Diana was away--Bettina was beautiful--Justin was in the field to measure lances. With Peter Pan for company, Sophie waited on the porch for the recreant pair. When they arrived it was very dark, and she could not see their faces. But what had made that difference in their voices--that subtle, thrilling difference? CHAPTER XVII GLORY OF YOUTH When Bettina cried, "I could fly with you,--forever," the light of a great joy leaped in Justin's eyes. But he said nothing; he merely set his hand more steadily to steering. And Bettina was content to be silent; to drift on and on in this golden world, where there was just herself and the youth with the shining eyes. Far beneath them several racing yachts seemed flung like white flower petals on the surface of the sea; two girls in red coats on the club-house tennis courts made glowing spots of color; the crowds of people on the rocks, with their heads upturned to view the fairy ship of the air, were as formless and as lacking in life and movement as a patchwork quilt. Bettina felt no wonder. Her mood was one of heavenly enchantment; having passed the first gate of the great adventure, no small detail could seem strange.