“That would be sure to bring me,” cried Mrs. Murray, smiling her bright smile, “provided you married the right persons.”
“Why, auntie,” said Harry, dismally, “Kate is so unreasonable. She won't take even me. You see she's so tremendously impressed with herself, and all the fellows spoil her.”
By this time Kate had the reins and Harry had climbed into the back seat.
“Dear old auntie,” he said, kissing his aunt, “I am really delighted to see you. But to return to Kate. Look at her! Doesn't she look like a Roman princess?”
“Now, Harry, do be sensible, or I shall certainly drive you at once to the office,” said Kate, severely.
“Oh, the heartlessness of her. She knows well enough that Colonel Thorp is there, and she would shamelessly exult over his abject devotion. She respects neither innocent youth nor gray hairs, as witness myself and Colonel Thorp.”
“Isn't he a silly boy, auntie?” said Kate, “and he is not much improving with age.”
“But what's this about Colonel Thorp?” said Mrs. Murray. “Sometimes Ranald writes of him, in high terms, too.”
“Well, you ought to hear Thorp abuse Ranald. Says he's ruining the company with his various philanthropic schemes,” said Harry, “but you can never tell what he means exactly. He's a wily old customer.”
“Don't believe him, auntie,” said Kate, with a sagacious smile. “Colonel Thorp thinks that the whole future of his company and of the Province depends solely upon Ranald. It is quite ridiculous to hear him, while all the time he is abusing him for his freaks.”