“No, mother dropped me here; my own car’s laid up.”
That was glorious for Fliss. This time it was her car that took Cecily home. It was a Fliss-like car—lean and low and yellow-brown. They piled into it and went down town, people turning to watch them, Fliss skimming through the streets, letting other drivers save her life and get out of her way because she was a pretty woman in a handsome car.
Matthew seemed delighted. Cecily was struck by the fact that he looked younger, laughed more easily, was not quite so inclined to heaviness in conversation. They dropped Madeline at her house and went on to surprise Dick and please him too.
Cecily had telephoned Ellen, who had a ready half-familiar smile for Fliss. Fliss returned it a bit quizzically. She even dared, while Cecily was busy with the baby, to slip out into the pantry where Ellen was working.
“How’s your ma?” asked Ellen promptly.
“Fine. I dropped in on her last week just after I’d made her buy some new window curtains and found her tying them all up with loops of blue ribbon. She and dad are attending movie serials.”
“Is everything all right with you at your house?”
“Slick. I wish you’d come and live with me, now, Ellen. I’d make you my housekeeper and after a bit I’d like to tell Cecily you’re a cousin of mine. This seems so queer.”
“Better not. No, I won’t leave Mrs. Harrison. Help’s hard to get. She counts on me, and I love the babies.”
“Good old Ellen.”