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
grimace. Then she added quickly, as she saw the hurt look in Betty's
bright face: "No, I didn't exactly mean that, dear, and I wouldn't say
anything to make you feel bad for worlds, that I wouldn't, only--I jest
can't bring myself to ride in those automobiles. You see," there was an
almost pathetic appeal for understanding in the bright old eyes, "I guess
I'm maybe too old to change my ways, an' I get tired easy--"
"I'll tell you what we'll do," Amy intervened with rare tact. "Some day
when we're going for just a little ride around the block we'll ask you
again. Maybe you'll feel more like it then, and you can get used to it by
degrees."
"That's awfully nice of you, dearie," said the old woman, looking
gratefully from one bright face to the other.
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