“My, this is something like,” commented Grace, stretching her feet out before her for all the world like a lazy, comfortable cat.  “I feel awfully sorry for all the poor people who haven’t cars to ride in to-day and Wild Rose Lodges to visit.  By the way, why is it called Wild Rose Lodge, Betty?”

“Because they say there are lots of wild roses around it, of course,” Betty responded, her hands resting easily on the wheel, her eyes bright with the joy of the moment.  Grace, stealing a sideways glance at her, could not help thinking that Betty looked not unlike a wild rose herself.

“You look awfully pretty, honey,” she said then, for Grace was always generous with praise where her friends were concerned.  “I would give the world to have a color like yours.”

“Goodness,” remarked Betty, turning to look at her chum, her face a little brighter pink because of the honest compliment, “you have a lovely color—­ as you very well know.  Mine is too red sometimes.”

“Nobody thinks that but you,” said Grace, squeezing Betty’s hand affectionately while she dived down in her pocket for some candy.  “The only time I have noticed you get very red,” she added, “is when some one happens to mention a certain young gentleman by the name of Lieutenant Allen Washburn.”

Betty could feel that her face was burning, but she did not care.  She was awfully proud of Allen and desperately fond of him and for the moment she did not care if the whole world knew about it.

“Isn’t it wonderful, Gracie?” she cried, her heart pounding joyously.  “About Allen being an officer, I mean.  I have to pinch myself several times a minute to make myself realize that it is really true.”

“It surely is great,” Grace answered slowly, adding after a moment, while a faraway expression crept into her eyes, “I don’t blame you for being crazy about him, honey.  I could almost be foolish myself.  Oh, don’t worry,” she went on quickly as Betty turned amazed and rather startled eyes upon her.  “I’m no fonder of Allen than I am of any of the other boys.  I just said that I didn’t blame you, that’s all.”

Betty turned her eyes to the road once more, but in her heart she was troubled.  There had been a note in Grace’s voice that she had never heard before.  Could it be possible that she really cared for Allen?  But she pushed the thought from her mind resolutely.  If such a thing could have been possible, she certainly would have discovered it before this.  The mere thought was nonsense of course.  And yet she was troubled.

“Have some candy,” Grace invited, breaking in upon her thoughts.  “You needn’t stick up your nose at it to-day for I bought this fresh from the store this morning.”

“Who said I was going to stick up my nose?” said Betty, helping herself to a chocolate that looked as if it might contain a nut and thankful for the break in her not-too-pleasant reflections.  “If you will think back just a little, I think you will admit that I have been guilty very seldom of sticking up my nose at anything