Fox was more thoughtful than the occasion seemed to call for. "It speaks well for his ability as a trainer of horses."
"It does." Sally seemed thoughtful, too.
"And what else does Mr. Morton do," asked Fox, "but train his horse?"
"Not much, I believe," Sally replied. "At other seasons he drives his car; when the roads are good."
"A noble occupation for a man," Fox observed, cheerfully and pleasantly; "driver and chauffeur. Not that those occupations are not quite respectable, but it hardly seems enough for a man of Mr. Morton's abilities, to say the least."
Sally looked up with a quick smile. "I am no apologist for Everett," she said. "I am not defending him, you observe. I know nothing of his abilities."
"What do you know, Sally," Fox inquired then, "of popular opinion?"
"More than you think, Fox," Sally answered mischievously, "for I have mixed with the people. I have been to Mr. Gilfeather's saloon."
"Oh, Sally!" cried Patty, "I wish you wouldn't keep alluding to your visit to that horrible place. I am sure that it was unnecessary."
"Very well, Cousin Patty, I won't mention it if it pains you." She turned to Fox again. "I was going to say that it is a great pity."