ply. "I want to ask Mrs. Sanderson to go with us."

Mollie clapped her hand over her mouth in a gesture of dismay.

"Goodness," she reproached herself, "I almost forgot about her. Yes, go
ahead Betty and do your best to get her. I know it would do her good. But
you had better take Amy with you to help persuade Mrs. Sanderson. Amy and
you together are a pair that will be hard to refuse. There goes Mr.
Bretton now! He's so grateful for what we girls have done for him here--as
though it were anything at all--that he'd do far more than help get the
car ready. I'll get his help, while you and Amy go for Mrs. Sanderson and
Grace gets ready. Now, rush! hurry! fly! off with you!"

Mollie ran out of the house and after the young soldier whose help she
sought. Grace went to her room for some last-minute dressing, and Amy and
Betty went upstairs to importune Mrs. Sanderson.

"Well, good morning, my dears," said the old woman, delighted at sight of
their bright faces. "I declare, if you don't bring all the sunshine in
with you! It is lovely of you to call on an old woman so early in the
morning."

"Well, you see," said Betty, eagerly diving right into the middle of her
subject. "We've come to kidnap you. Please, won't you let us?"

"Kidnap me," repeated the old lady, patting the soft cheek with a puzzled
air. "Why, it seems to me sort of unusual to ask a body if you can kidnap
'em."

Betty laughed.

"Well, I guess maybe it is," she admitted gayly. "But, you see, we can't
very well do it without asking you. Mollie said," she added, taking the
little lady's hand in hers and squeezing it affectionately, "that you
told her the only way we could get you to do it was to make you
unconscious again. And," she finished, with an adorable little coaxing
smile, "we couldn't do that, you know. We're altogether too fond of you."

Mrs. Sanderson laughed and pinched her cheek.

"Very well, honey," she chuckled. "Now if you'll tell me what it's all
about--"

"We want you to go on a picnic with us," broke in Amy.

"A picnic!" repeated the old lady, more puzzled than before. "What sort of
picnic?"

"An automobile picnic," explained Betty, adding quickly as she saw refusal
in the bright old eyes. "Oh, please don't say 'no' yet. We've got the
whole day off, and we're going to take Mollie's car and go off all by
ourselves and eat our lunch and admire the view and--"

"Taste gasoline for a week after," finished the old lady with a little