“But you can’t go by yourself in the New York streets! I won’t allow it.”
“No, daddy dear, not here in the city, perhaps. But, if we go away for the summer to some nice country place, where there’s nothing in the road but cows, then I could run it alone. Or with some nice girl by my side.”
“Or with some nice boy by your side,” put in Philip. “I’m an awfully nice boy,—they all say.”
“If you help me win it, I’ll give you a ride in it,” said Patty. “But I haven’t won it yet.”
“No, and you won’t,” said her father. “Those contests are just planned for an advertisement. The prize goes to the daughter of the chief director.”
“Oh, Father Fairfield! What a mean thing to say! You don’t know that that’s so at all. Now, I believe in their honesty.”
“So do I,” said Nan. “That isn’t like you, Fred, to express such an unfounded suspicion.”
“Well, perhaps I spoke too hastily. But still, Patty, I don’t think you want the thing. If you get it, I’ll sell it for you, and give you the money.”
“No, sir-ee! I want it for itself alone. Oh, father, think what fun I’d have spinning around the country! Wouldn’t we, Nan?”
“Yes, indeed! I think it would be great fun. And they say those electrics are easy to manage.”