“I shall be very happy to drive you,” said Paul, cheerfully.
“You are sure you can drive?” asked the old lady, anxiously.
“I should smile,” Paul was about to reply, when it occurred to him that this form of expression did not sound exactly proper. “I am used to driving, ma’am,” he said, instead.
“Then about two o’clock you may go out to the barn and ask Frost to harness up.”
“O, I’ll do that, Mrs. Granville.”
When he went out to the barn, he found Frost Mercer sitting at his ease, engaged at his favorite business of smoking a pipe.
“I suppose you are Frost,” he said, with a smile.
“I am Mr. Mercer,” answered Frost, in a forbidding tone.
“I beg your pardon. I will call you Mr. Mercer, if you prefer it. I am Paul Parton.”
“I don’t know as that concerns me,” said Frost, staring at Paul in an unfriendly manner.