“Oh, I have an early appointment—one of the girls I knew at Miss Grayson’s is visiting some friends in New York, and I am going to spend the day with her.”
“Who is she?” Marjorie inquired, coldly concerned. She had not yet accustomed herself to Elinor’s doing as she pleased without consulting her.
“You don’t know her, mother, so there wouldn’t be any use in my telling you.” Elinor tossed her head defiantly.
“Just the same,” Marjorie began, “I want to know.”
Hugh arose hastily. “Come on, Howard, if you want to ride into town with me,” he called. It was plain he was anxious to escape from listening to one of Marjorie’s catechisms.
“Righto, Dad,” answered the boy. “Try to improve your disposition, Sis,” he called back over his shoulder. “I’m going to get a swell roadster, and you may want to ride with me.”
“Howard,” Hugh began, as soon as they were seated in the car, and headed for town, “how is it that you and Elinor can’t be together half an hour without quarreling?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Howard sulked. “She always starts things.”
“You should remember that she is a woman, and women are nearly always difficult enigmas,” Hugh sighed rather deeply.
“You must be right, Dad,” Howard’s voice was full of sympathy. “I know you’re speaking from experience.”