"I'll overlook the outrage this time, but as an apology, I must have Gladys and Nellie to spend the day on Monday."
"Can't be done—no ponies!"
"Then I'll borrow the Clouds Rest car."
"Will you! You've cheek enough for anything! If you can get the car, you shall have the girls, and the Missus thrown in—there's an offer for you!"
Mayne, who felt a touch of sincere pity for poor Mrs. Meach and her browbeaten daughters, experienced a sense of profound relief when the farewells were over, and he and Nancy rode away.
"Look in again soon, young fellow!" shouted Major Meach. "Nancy, tell your father to send me up a bag of his number one coffee—it can come in the car."
"I don't know about that bag of coffee," said Mayne; "but old Meach won't see me again."
"Isn't he a horror?"
"I'm awfully sorry for his daughters; when he told the fair one to 'shut up,' I felt inclined to shy a plate at him!"
"And he is such an ungrateful old monster! Only for the way those girls work, and go without things, there would be no cigars, no Europe hams, tinned stores, or whisky and soda. He must have everything he wants, or he yells, and storms like a madman. I've told him one or two plain truths about his selfishness."