"'Why not?' I said. 'We're goin' to be married, anyhow.'
"'Is that so?' she asked. 'I hadn't heard of it.'
"Oh, she was no babe, I tell you. We went back to the hotel and woke up the old man, and I ordered up the best machine in the shop—a big seven-seated, shiny one, half as long as a Pullman parlor-car, with a top and brass housin's and extra tires strapped on, and a place for a trunk—an outfit that made me look like a street-railway magnate. It set me back a whole lot, but I wanted to stagger dad—and I did. As we rolled up to the door he came out with eyes you could hang your hat on.
"'What's all this?' he asked.
"I hopped out.
"'Miss McRae,' I says, 'this is my father. Dad, this is Mister McRae. I think you've met before.'"
He chuckled again, that silent interior laugh, and I was certainly grinning in sympathy as he went on.
"'Just help me with this trunk,' I says. 'The horses bein' tired, I just thought I'd have a dray to bring up my duds.'
"Well, sir, I had him flat down. He couldn't raise a grunt. He stood like a post while I laid off my trunk; but mother and sis came out and were both very nice to Nance. Mother asked her to get out, and she did, and I took 'em all for a ride later—all but dad. Couldn't get him inside the machine. Nance stayed for supper, and just as we were goin' in dad said to me:
"'How much does that red machine cost you an hour?'