“Ugh, you dreadful boy!” cried Clem Forsythe.
“Who's fighting now with the new boy?” asked Alexia sweetly, tearing off her gaze from the street.
“Well, who wouldn't?” retorted Clem, “he's saying such perfectly terrible things.”
Pickering Dodge gave a short laugh. “Beresford, you're in for it now,” he said.
Tom shrugged his shoulders, and turned his back on them.
“What did you bring him home for, Joe?” asked Alexia, leaning over to twitch Joel's arm.
“To plague you, Alexia,” said Joel, with a twinkle in his black eyes.
“Oh, he doesn't bother me,” said Alexia serenely. “Clem is having all the trouble now. Well, we must put up with him, I suppose,” she said with resignation.
“You don't need to,” said Joel coolly, “you can let us alone, Alexia.”
“But I don't want to let you alone,” said Alexia; “that's all boys are good for, if they're in a party, to keep 'em stirred up. Goodness me, Mr. King and Polly are getting out!” as the car stopped, and Grandpapa led the way down the aisle.