“Why—I——It’s nothing,” stammered the young chauffeur.
“Oh, yes it is!” exclaimed Nan. “Of course you have some regular charge—even if you were not there at the station just to meet us.”
“No—o, I don’t,” he declared. “There’s nothing to pay.”
“But there must be!” cried Nan, a little wildly. “Surely you run a public car?”
“No. This is my father’s car,” admitted the boy, whom Nan now saw was a very good looking boy and very well dressed. “I was just down there to meet a friend——”
“Yes, and I don’t see how you missed her, Walter,” interrupted the girl behind Nan, and who had spoken before. “For here is Linda now, in Charley’s old ’bus.”
“Oh my!” murmured Bess.
Nan began to feel great confusion herself. It was not so funny, after all!
“Why—why, then you do not have this car for hire?” she asked.
“No, ma’am,” said the boy, meekly. He was looking at Nan Sherwood admiringly, for she made a very pretty picture standing there in the strong glow of the electric light. “But I didn’t mind bringing you up—not at all.”