On such occasions Claribelle tossed her head and flew into a passion, often sulking for hours afterwards. Yet, although she so sorely tried the Driver’s patience, he continued to love her. And when all other means had failed he would often sing her back to good temper, for he had a beautiful tenor voice.
He was a little proud of his voice, and used to practise every night, partly because he loved music, also because he delighted to show his devotion to Claribelle by singing her little love-songs in a well-trained manner.
He was of a kindly, genial nature, so that you would have thought it was hardly possible to quarrel with him. But Claribelle’s pride not seldom caused a dispute between them, and she would often start a heated argument without any reason.
It was thus one day that a quarrel arose which ended in the most serious manner.
They were out driving in the Wagon, when the Driver, remembering he owed a call on the Farthing Doll, proposed that he and Claribelle should go thither.
“What!” she exclaimed haughtily. “Pay a call on that Farthing creature! Certainly not!”
“I, at least, must go, sooner or later,” the Driver replied.