"But I'm not sure we are the right kind," says Marjorie. "I—I'm not very serious, you know; and Dud's apt to be noisy. He thinks he can sing."
At which Dudley gets fussed and Old Hickory chuckles.
"I'll take a chance," says Mr. Ellins. "If I'm to be your guardian, I ought to know you better. So you two trot right up to the house and prepare to stay the week out. Here, Torchy! 'Phone for the limousine. No, not a word, young woman! I haven't time to discuss it. Clear out, both of you! See you at dinner."
"There!" says Marjorie as a partin' shot. "I just knew you were an old dear!"
"Stuff!" protests Mr. Ellins. "'Old bear,' is more like it."
And me, I picks up a new cue. I escorts 'em out to the gen'ral office with all the honors. "I'll have that car down in a jiffy, Miss," says I.
"Oh, thank you," says Marjorie. "And if you think of anything we ought to ditch in the meantime—"
"Ah, what's the use rubbin' it in on me," says I, "after the way you put it over Mr. Ellins? I don't count. Besides, anybody that fields their position like you do has got me wearin' their button for keeps."
"Really?" says she. "I shall remember that, you know; and there's no telling what dreadful thing I may do before I go. Is there, Dud?"
"Oh, quit it, Peggy!" says he. "Behave, can't you?"