"When I got tired of being Elizabethed. Everybody thinks Blue Bonnet suits me better, except Aunt Lucinda—on occasions."
"And the next wish? They're stacking up."
"I reckon it was about the Sargent prize in school. I wanted Alec Trent to win it—and he did. And next I wished to pass my school examinations—"
"And even that miracle was achieved!" said Uncle Cliff, pinching her cheek.
"And, finally, I wanted to go back to Texas, and, at the same time, I wished I didn't have to leave Grandmother and Alec and the girls. That might seem a contrary pair of wishes, but it doesn't daunt Godfather Ashe. He straightway makes a private car arise from—from what, Uncle Cliff?"
"Tobacco smoke," promptly supplied Mr. Ashe, with a reminiscent smile on his lips.
"Why tobacco smoke?" asked Blue Bonnet wonderingly.
"I taught Maldon to smoke when he was a young chap visiting out our way, and we've been friends ever since. The private car seems to have grown out of that," replied her uncle.
"I see," Blue Bonnet nodded. "But don't tell Aunt Lucinda,—I fancy she doesn't approve of smoking."
"So I've noticed," rather grimly rejoined Mr. Ashe. Blue Bonnet's prim New England aunt had not suffered him to remain long in ignorance of her disapproval of tobacco in any form.