Who could keep from laughing over this brother and sister who loved the life on the road and the campfire?
“Thank fortune, I’m not in line for the title,” Richard whispered to Billie under cover of the conversation of the others, “and Grandpapa or no Grandpapa, I shall buy that farm,—do you guess where?”
“I can’t imagine,” answered Billie.
“In West Haven. I’ve never seen it, but that is the place you like best, isn’t it?”
“I think I like the traveling van best,” answered Billie irrelevantly,—“that is, next to the ‘Comet,’” she added with a sudden feeling of loyalty toward the faithful motor car.
“The traveling van would be a part of it and the ‘Comet,’ too, for that matter.”
Then he calmly slipped his hand over hers under the folds of her scarlet cape.
“Shall we be comrades of the road?” he whispered.
“Some day, perhaps,” Billie answered, not taking her hand away, but glancing shyly at her father, who was watching her face in the fire light.
Then she smiled at Richard. After all, she was past eighteen and Richard,—well, Richard was the most delightful person she had ever met in all her life.