“Buy a coach and four with it,” advised Archibald.
Her imagination was all aflame at the suggestion.
“Black horses and the coach lined with yellow, and we’ll take Miss Moran and the Johnston twins and Mrs. Neal and Mrs. Benderby and Jimmy Dawes, and the McKenzie baby and—How many does a coach hold?”
“Well, unless it’s a very large coach, I should say you’ve got it about full.”
“All right. Can you drive?”
“I can.”
“Then you’ll sit on the front seat with Miss Moran.”
“Hooray!”
“And the rest of us will be behind with red and green umbrellas, and there’ll be chains that jingle on the horses and Jimmy Dawes will blow a horn—I saw a coach go by down the road once. It was perfectly splendid. Now there isn’t anything but automobiles.”
“Maybe you’d rather buy an automobile.”