"Yes," he answered with meekness. "It was undoubtedly some reference to your ride upon the ox wagon."
She hesitated a moment, and then said, "Well?"
With still greater meekness he said, "I am very sorry."
"Are you, indeed?" she inquired loftily. "Sorry for what? Sorry that I rode upon your father's ox wagon, or sorry that Mrs. Truscot was rude to me about it?"
"Well, in some ways it was my fault."
"Was it? I suppose you intend to apologize for your father's owning an ox wagon, don't you?"
"No, but——"
"Well, I am going to ride in the ox wagon whenever I choose. Your father, I know, will always be glad to have me. And if it so shocks you, there is not the slightest necessity of your coming with us."
They glowered at each other, and he said, "You have twisted the question with the usual ability of your sex."
She pondered as if seeking some particularly destructive retort. She ended by saying bluntly, "Did you know that we were going home next week?"