Her eyes were closed, but she could feel his, brightly curious, fixed upon her coiffure.
“You make me nervous, Nixie. Would you mind taking a book?”
“A thousand pardons, dear hostess! Of course I will. I did just want to ask your advice about the car, though.”
“What car?” Mrs. Bruce’s eyes opened.
“Ours. I think when mother gets through dressing Miss Maynard, we’d better have it here. Don’t you?”
“The roads are excellent,” replied the prostrate one.
“Of course it’s Uncle Henry’s car, but it’s all in the family.”
“We haven’t one, just now,” said Mrs. Bruce. “We sold it when we went to Europe; and Irving is such a merman we thought we wouldn’t do anything about a new one till we went back to town.”
“I suppose you have an electric for yourself,” said Robert.