“Yes, it is nice,” conceded Tess, proudly, airily and condescendingly.
A little later the two younger children and Agnes sat in the rear seat, while Ruth was beside Mr. Howbridge at the steering wheel. Then the big car purred off down the street, like a contented cat after a saucer of warm milk.
“It was very good of you to come and get us,” said Ruth, when they were bowling along. “Almost the christening trip of the car, too, isn’t it?” she asked.
“The very first trip I have made in it,” was the answer. “I wanted it properly christened, you see. There is a method in my madness, too. I have an object in view, Martha.”
Sometimes he called Ruth this, fancifully, with the thought in mind that she was “cumbered with many cares.”
Again he would apply to her the nickname of “Minerva,” with its suggestion of wisdom. And Ruth rather liked these fanciful appellations.
“You have an object?” she repeated.
“Yes,” he answered. “As usual, I want your advice.”
“As if it was really worth anything to you!” she countered.
“It will be in this case, I fancy,” he went on with a smile. “I want your opinion about a canal boat.”