in the east."

"Oh, you're a kill-joy!" cried Betty, cocking an optimistic eye up at the
sky. "It's only one teeny little cloud anyway, and who cares for clouds
when the boys are coming home?"

Both Amy and Grace felt a breathless little tug at their hearts at the
joyful challenge in Betty's words, but Mollie, with a perverseness that
was sometimes characteristic of her, refused to be too happy.

"Who says they're coming home?" she asked. "Now you're only guessing."

"Guessing!" cried Betty indignantly. "What do you mean--guessing? The war
is over, isn't it?"

"Yes; and has been for quite a while," Mollie responded dryly. "But that
doesn't say that the boys are coming home right away."

"We don't care about the right away," interrupted Amy, with a quiet
happiness in her face that made Betty hug her impulsively. "We can wait
patiently, now that we know they are safe."

"It's all right for you to talk about patience, Amy," retorted Mollie,
throttling her engine and sliding at breakneck speed down a long hill
without the thought of using a brake. A brake to Mollie meant something to
be used at the last minute when she couldn't think of anything else to do.
"You're an angel, but I'm not----"

"No, indeed!" said Grace, so emphatically that the girls in the tonneau
chuckled and Mollie looked at her threateningly.