When they were seated in McIver's roadster, she added, "I really can't deny myself the thrilling triumph of taking a business man away from his work during office hours."
"You take my thoughts away from my work a great many times during office hours, Helen," he retorted, as the car moved away. "Must I wait much longer for my answer, dear?"
She replied, hurriedly, "Please, Jim, not that to-day. Let's not think about it even."
"All right," he returned, grimly. "I just want you to know, though, that I am waiting."
"I know, Jim—and—and you are perfectly wonderful but—Oh, can't we forget it just for an hour?"
As if giving himself to her mood, McIver's voice and manner changed. "Do you mind if we stop at the factory just a second? I want to leave some papers. Then we can go on up the river drive."
* * * * *
An hour later they were returning, and because it was the prettiest street in that part of Millsburgh, McIver chose the way that would take them past the old house.
John Ward's machine was standing in front of the Martin cottage.
McIver saw it and looked quickly at his companion. There was no need to ask if Helen had recognized her brother's car.