Upon this Irving turned around and caught Betsy’s eye; then a glimpse of the blond young girl who was her companion.
“Glad she’s having a good time,” he said, turning back. Then to Mrs. Bruce, “Betsy has made friends with a pretty waitress back there.”
“Oh, we still have the domestics, the heavers, with us, have we?” laughed Mrs. Bruce.
“Is that what they call them!” exclaimed Robert alertly, but continuing to speak softly. “Didn’t you see the other one we had this morning? The spearmint expert? Alas, she is no more; but if this one had stayed, I can tell you Uncle Henry would have stayed too.”
“O Robert!” exclaimed Mrs. Nixon, anxious to make a diversion, “could you get me some of that very peculiar red flower?”
The stage was climbing a gentle incline and Robert swung himself out and gathered the blossoms.
“Want some?” asked Irving of his companion.
Mrs. Bruce certainly did, and Irving accordingly jumped out, also. She turned to Mrs. Nixon, smiling.
“We’re pretty fortunate women,” she said.