Josephine watched him breathlessly until Mason repeated his question.
“I would like very much to live in New York, if I thought I could get along with your father,” she answered naively. “Sir Jack, I want you to make me a promise. Please don’t go up in that airplane again. If Roy wants to risk his neck, I’m sure I don’t want you to risk yours.”
“All right,” he laughed, “I promise, so you see we will get along famously.”
Josephine smiled contentedly.
“And another thing,” she said, eyeing him seriously. “I will want to have my saddle horse, Fleet, and my dog, Rover, with me if I live in New York. I never could leave them here and be happy.”
“I will have them shipped along with us when we go,” he declared, “and I am going to buy you a nice white chummy roadster car when we get home and you can drive it all by yourself.”
“That won’t be any fun unless you go with me,” she pouted.
“Oh, I will be with you so much that you will be glad to get rid of me once in a while.”
She voiced a quick protest.
“Let’s go into the house and tell the people,” he cried boyishly.