“How am I to get home?” Polly smiled. “Oh, how stupid of me!” scowled Kate. Then she brightened. “Why can’t you ride up with the grocer?” “He must be far on his route by this time. No, there isn’t any way for me to get back--unless I walk,” she laughed. John looked troubled. What was it? Polly could not tell. “I wonder if--” he began. “Teeters and tongs!” broke in Benedicta from the kitchen; “you go right along, Miss Polly! I’ll drive down after yer soon ’s I get my work done.” “Why, can you drive the car?” exclaimed Kate. “Sure!” scorned the woman. “I’m almost afraid to let you,” demurred Polly. “You’ve never been down alone--excepting once.” “If I can’t manipulate that chariot, we’ll go deviltydamn together,” announced Benedicta. Three minutes later Lilith was upstairs helping Polly dress for her ride. Polly stopped suddenly, her frock half on--stopped with an air of finality. “I’m not going! Will you take my place?” “Why, of course not! What should I do with John Eustis on my hands for an hour?” Polly laughed at Lilith’s look of despair. “Talk to him--just as I’d have to. And he doesn’t want me. You know he doesn’t--you saw that.” “I didn’t see anything of the kind--when?” Lilith looked her astonishment. “When Kate suggested my going--of course, you saw it!” “I didn’t. ’Twas only your imagination. He urged you to go.” “Oh, yes, he couldn’t help it!” She hesitated. “I will not go!” she declared. Yet when the car was at the door she ran downstairs in her pretty pink-and-white gingham, as smilingly fresh and happy as if she had never had a trouble or a perplexing problem. Lilith looked upon her with wonder and admiration. She wished that she could veil her heart so easily. Polly had herself well under control, there was no doubt about that. After the chatter of leave-taking both the driver and his companion said little. To be sure, John was seldom very talkative; but Polly was not given to long silences, and now she wondered whether she had better let John have his way or break into his thoughts with commonplaces. In his present mood she hardly dared attempt any reference to the matter which lay closest the door of her heart. But after waiting in vain for John to speak she grew impatient and began to talk quite casually about the large crop of blackberries apparent on the sides of the road. At once John came out of his abstraction--if abstraction it was--and they fell into easy conversation. Soon Polly became bolder. “I hope Patricia will come up while the berries are at their best,” she said, furtively watching her companion. “She delights in them. I wish she were here now.” “I wish she were,” echoed John fervently--“this very minute!” He was gazing straight ahead, his face set in stern lines. This was so unexpected as for a moment to throw Polly off her balance; but she quickly recovered herself. Here was her opportunity! She must not lose it.