"You like it?" he said, flushing.
"I think it's wonderful," said my cousin.
So it was.
I have seen many mascots. But, seated upon the cap of the radiator, a little silver reproduction of the Ares Ludovisi knocked memories of nymphs, hounds, and urchins into a cocked hat.
"I'd like you to have it," said the boy suddenly. "Which is your car?"
"Oh, but I can't take it," cried Jill breathlessly. "It's awfully generous of you, but I couldn't think of——"
"Well, let's just see how it looks. You were in the first car, weren't you?"
It was about a thousand to one against the two caps being interchangeable, but the miracle came off. Once Ares was in his new seat, nothing would induce his owner to disestablish him.
"Keep him to-day, at least," he insisted. "Please do. I think it—it'll bring me luck."
"You're awfully kind," said Jill. "Why did you run away?"