"Look here, Margaret," he cried, "you
don't suspect me of--"
She put her fingers on his lips and laughed quietly at him. "You'd
better run along now. I'm going to hurry away to grandmother, to
try to repair the damage you did." She rose and called, "Lucia!
Lucia!" The round, rosy, rather slovenly Miss Severence appeared
in the little balcony--the only part of the house in view from
where they sat.
"Telephone the stables for the small victoria," called Margaret.
"Mother's out in it," replied Lucia.
"Then the small brougham."
"I want that. Why don't you take the electric?"
"All right."
Lucia disappeared. Margaret turned upon the deeply-impressed
Craig. "What's the matter?" asked she, though she knew.
"I can't get used to this carriage business," said he. "I don't
like it. Where the private carriage begins just there democracy
ends. It is the parting of the ways. People who are driving have
to look down; people who aren't have to look up."
"Nonsense!" said Margaret, though it seemed to her to be the
truth.
"Nonsense, of course," retorted Craig. "But nonsense rules the
world." He caught her roughly by the arm. "I warn you now, when
we--"
"Run along, Josh," cried she, extricating herself and laughing,
and with a wave of the hand she vanished into the shrubbery.
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