They set off presently, Stacey giving a sigh of relief at being out of the house and in some one else’s hands—no longer obliged to think for himself.
It was quite dark now. The car ploughed through the freezing slush and mud of a suburban district until at last it drew up before a small outlying drug-store.
Whittaker blew the horn, and a girl scurried out into the green and purple light, and down to the curb.
“Gee!” she exclaimed, “there’s two of you!”
“Uh-huh,” Whittaker assented. “My friend, Stacey Carroll, Minnie. Another hero of the late world unpleasantness. Minnie Prentice, Carroll. Hop in, Minnie, old thing!”
Stacey had stepped down to let the girl in. She shook his hand and turned her small piquant face to his for a moment, then sprang up lightly, dropping a kiss on Whittaker’s cheek, running her arm through his, and snuggling into place, all in a second.
“Minnie,” Whittaker remarked, as the car leaped forward, “was lately a prominent, if silent, member of that unfortunate production, ‘The Pearl Girl,’ which expensive show completely failed to arouse Chicago from its sleep, and passed away, with me finally almost the only mourner. Disgusted with the rouge and corruption of the stage, Minnie decided to reform; and where, as I explained to her, can you reform better than in Vernon? in which pleasant city she now holds a position at Leveredge’s department store (notion counter), and has me for a chaperon. Hey, Minnie?”
“You forget to tell Mr. What’s-his-name the rest, Bill,” said Minnie with dignity.
“Mr. Carroll, sweetness, Carroll! The Vernon Carrolls! So I do,” Whittaker rattled on, meanwhile driving the car consummately over a slippery expanse of ice. “Having a sweet pure voice, Minnie is on the very verge of being admitted to the First Presbyterian Church choir. Hence the obscure situation of our meeting-place. For, strange as it may seem, the First Presbyterian Church would not approve of my respectful appreciation of Minnie. Evil minds church people have!”
The young woman giggled. “My, but you’re silly, Bill! I’ll say you are!” she observed. “What’ll Mr.—er—Carroll—got it that time, didn’t I?—think of me?”