"I'm sorry I have none," he said. "'Romeo Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?' How times have changed! The modern Lochinvar has a touring-car, and some day you'll be eloping in the most up-to-date fashion."
"What makes you talk to me about him?" queried Isabel, with uplifted eyes. "You know I don't like him."
"All right," he answered, good-naturedly. "I won't. I hope Aunt Francesca won't be worried about you because we're so late in getting back."
"I don't see why she should mind. Mamma never cares what I do. She's often been away for weeks, lecturing, and I've been in the hotel alone."
He repressed the uncharitable comment that was upon his lips and reverted to the subject of the play. "I'm glad you've enjoyed it. I wanted you to have a good time."
"I've had the best time I ever had in my life," she responded, with evident sincerity. "Isn't it wonderful what they can do with a room that has only three sides?"
"It surely is. I've had a good time, too, Silver Girl. Thank you for coming."
"You're welcome," she returned sweetly.
The carriage was waiting at the station, and Isabel was very quiet all the way home. Thinking that she must be tired, Allison said little until they reached Madame Bernard's, and he had seen her safely into the house. He insisted upon taking off her gloves and coat and would have extended his friendly services to her hat, had she not laughingly forbade him to touch it.
"Good-night," he said. "We'll go again soon."