"Good morning, Tom.

Something nice is going to happen.

I can read it in your faces." "That depends on whatever your conception of 'nice' may be," returned Tom mysteriously.

Slipping from the driver's seat, he caught her outstretched hand in both his own, his gray eyes alive with the light of a joyful anticipation which Grace had been quick to catch.
"Good morning, my dear," called Mrs.Gray from the car.

"Run in the house and get your hat.