She looked at him. There he sat, a heavy, rather sluggish man with a growth of black beard which he conspicuously did not shave twice a day. His hair was not as thick as it had been ten years ago, but not less unruly, and his digestion was decidedly poorer. He was working hard, and making money, and usually tired. He was still more even-tempered than most men. From the time Martha went away to school till she came home for holiday he scarcely spoke an irritable word.
"I thought I'd wait till the girls come home."
"You're dead tired."
"I know it, but they'll be here soon. It's nearly twelve now."
"Let's go out and get them."
"All right. Let's."
They had done that more than once. Bob was always ready for a drive even over that road which they must take along the river. Two miles of that sinuous and uncertain byway had been the cause, like the rest of the country club, of a great wave of hard feeling in the community. Were the taxpayers going to keep it up for a few rich "sporty" families? asked the indignant, so successfully that now the handful of members had either to repair it themselves or endure its flooded ruts. The country club had not been well managed. Mrs. Benton had washed her hands of it in the beginning, prophesying its downfall. The founders had not counted the cost. The less wealthy couldn't stand the assessments and had dropped out. Those who remained had to pay more. And it was all a muddle and a burden and a quarrel—a perfect example of how Mrs. Benton did not manage things. Emily was one of those who still kept membership. She seldom used the place, but she wanted Martha to have a place to play golf. The more Martha danced there, the less she would disturb her father by dancing at home. And really, it was a very nice crowd of young people who gathered there. By night, as Bob and Emily drove in, it looked gay and lovely, lit all up, among the trees, with the dancers gliding about. By day, of course, its appearance justified the scorn which neighboring towns poured upon it. However, those towns, since last night's event, would be less boastful.
Bob stopped the car and they sat looking in. Now Martha had had on a little dress faintly pink at the neck and deeply carmine at the hem, so that, if she had been there, Emily would have seen her in a moment.
"Where is the kid?" Bob grumbled. Emily looked about under the trees, and saw Johnnie Benton leave the couple with whom he was smoking and come over to them. Bob repeated his question immediately. And Johnnie said, indifferently, looking in towards the lighted floor:
"Isn't she there? I guess she's out having a petting party somewhere with that dago necker."