Billy was in the Army, and had fought in France when America "went in." He was stationed somewhere--Marise didn't know where--and Cath had been a "war bride." She looked delicate, though pretty; and another girl whispered to Marise, "Cath was never strong, but when Billy was reported missing a year ago she went right down, and the doctors thought she'd got T.B. My, you don't know what _T.B._ means? Everyone out here knows only too well, because the climate in these parts and Arizona is so good, lots of 'em come to get cured. Consumption, of course. But joy's the best medicine in the world. You can realise how it would be with you if it had been your gorgeous Jack! I guess Cath will get well now, though she isn't quite right yet--and I don't suppose Billy'd have let her take such a trip for anyone but Jack Garth." They had motored from "home," wherever that was, in what they called a "tin Lizzie," and Billy had driven the car himself. When everyone else was gone, Cath was still in the house, for there was trouble with "Lizzie," and Garth had gone out with his friend to see what it was. Cath looked very tired, but her eyes were bright, and a pink flush high on her rather thin cheeks melted into shadows under thick dark lashes. She talked excitedly to Marise about "Jack and Bill," telling the stranger anecdotes which would have thrilled a loving bride, but now and then she glanced wistfully at the door. At last the two men came back, and the girl half sprang up. "I was getting worried!" she cried. "Is Lizzie going to behave herself?" "That's what I wish I was sure of," said Billy. "The little brute is in the sulks, and not even Jack can get at the reason, so it must be pretty deep-seated. Still, she may bump us home if I coax her along." "Good gracious, boy!" exclaimed Mothereen. "That'll never do for Cath! Why, you might be stuck for hours. You and she must stay here and we'll lend you what you need." "Oh, thank you, darling!" Cath answered. "That would be wonderful. I _am_ tired. But are you sure you've room to squeeze us in, now you've got Jack and his wife with you?" Mothereen started. "My saints!" she gasped. "I'd forgotten we'd made a suite for them. But that doesn't matter a bit. There'll _be_ room. And you'll stop." Billy and Cath protested. They wouldn't upset the house for worlds. It wasn't so late but Bill could go into the town and knock up the folks at a hotel. "Nothing of the sort," Mothereen scolded. "We'll have a cot bed put into my room--mine's too narrow for two; and sure I am that Marise won't mind my having a bunk fixed up for the night in her sitting-room."