“I think Captain Warren prefers to be excused,” she said, smiling. “He has a prejudice against automobiles.”
“No!” drawled Malcolm, the irrepressible. “Not really? Admiral, I’m surprised! In these days, you know!”
“It ain’t so much the automobiles,” snapped Captain Elisha, irritation getting the better of his discretion, “as ’tis the devilish fools that—”
“Yes? Oh, all right, Mater.”
“That are careless enough to get in the way of them,” finished the captain, with surprising presence of mind. “Still, if Caroline wants to go—”
“I have it!” exclaimed Mrs. Dunn. “The young people shall go, and the others remain at home. Malcolm shall take you for a spin, Caroline, and Captain Warren and I will stay here and wait until you return. We’ll have a family chat, Captain, won’t we? Because,” with a gay laugh, “in a way we are like one family, you see.”
And, somewhat to Miss Warren’s surprise, her uncle agreed to this proposition. He did not answer immediately, but, when he did, it was with heartiness.
“Why, yes,” he said, “that’s a good idea. That’s fust-rate. You young folks go, and Mrs. Dunn and I’ll wait here till you come back. That’s the way of the world—young folks on the go, and the old folks at home by the fire, hey, Mrs. Dunn?”
The lady addressed did not relish being numbered with “old folks,” but she smiled sweetly, and said she supposed it was. Malcolm telephoned to the garage and to Edwards at the Warren apartment, ordering the butler to deliver his mistress’s auto cap and cloak to the chauffeur, who would call for them. A few minutes later the yellow car rolled up to the door.
In the hall Mrs. Dunn whispered a reassuring word to her departing guest.