"I told him where we were going," cried Betty desperately, driven into a corner. "But I had no idea he was going to write to me until--until--" hesitating as a picture of Joe Barnes, standing beside her car and asking if he might tell her "how things were with him" came vividly before her eyes. "Yes. Until?" they baited her, forgetting for a moment the dark shadows hanging over them in the fun of this unexpected discovery. "Until the morning we came away," Betty answered, seeing that she could not get away from these pitiless inquisitors until she had satisfied their curiosity. "Did he ask to write to you then?" probed Mollie relentlessly. "I don't see what right--" Betty was beginning spiritedly when she caught Mollie's eye and ended in a little helpless laugh. "I suppose I'll have to tell you all about it or you'll turn a simple little molehill into a mountain." "Quite right," said Grace cheerfully, and even Betty had to laugh at her. "Make a clean breast of it," ordered Mollie. "But there really isn't anything to make a clean breast of," protested Betty. "He simply asked me if he might write and tell me how he--how he--" "How he what?" they queried. "But I don't know whether I ought to tell you about that or not." Betty was really in earnest. "You see, what he told me was sort of in confidence." "In confidence!" repeated Grace, adding wickedly: "Now we know it's a serious case." "Nonsense," said Betty, almost crossly. "He simply said he hadn't been allowed to get into the army because of ill health, but now that he felt well again he was going to try once more. It was that he wanted to write and tell me about. And because I was really interested, I said he might. That's all." "How romantic!" cried Mollie irrepressibly. "For goodness sake, hurry up and read it, Betty, and relieve our curiosity." "I'll read it," said Betty firmly, "when I get good and ready, and not one minute before!" CHAPTER XVIII SERIOUSLY WOUNDED They walked the rest of the distance to the house in absorbed silence, reading as they went. Then suddenly Betty gave a little cry of amazement. "I thought this was for me," she said, holding up a letter. "But it isn't. It's for your mother, Grace. I don't see how I could have made such a mistake!" But Grace only heard the first part of Betty's speech. The last of it passed right over her head. "A letter for mother?" she cried. "Oh, give it to me, Betty. It may be from dad. Oh, it is! It is!" she exclaimed, as she saw her father's familiar writing. "He must have heard about Will. Mother! Mother--" she broke away from the girls and took the porch steps two at a time, waving the letter wildly as she went. "Oh, if it's only good news, if it's only good news!" Betty found herself saying over and over again as she, with Mollie, followed Grace into the house.