Mr. Jones ate merely a mouthful, but he evidently endeavored to follow
the conversation and take an interest in what was said. He finally
became conscious that his continuous gaze distressed Myrtle, and
thereafter strove to keep his eyes from her face. They would creep
back to it, from time to time; but Beth, who was watching him
curiously, concluded he was making a serious effort to deport himself
agreeably and credited him with a decided improvement in manners as
their acquaintance with him progressed.

After luncheon, when their return by way of Old Town and the Spanish
Mission was proposed, Mr. Jones said, pointing to the car that stood
beside their own:

"This is my automobile. I drive it myself. I would like Myrtle Dean to
ride back with me."

The girl hesitated, but quickly deciding she must not retreat, now she
had practically begun the misanthrope's reformation, she replied:

"I will be very glad to. But won't you take one of my friends, also?
That will divide the party more evenly."

He looked down at his feet, thoughtfully considering the proposition.

"I'll go with you," said Beth, promptly. "Get into the front seat with
Mr. Jones, Myrtle, and I'll ride behind."

The man made no protest. He merely lifted Myrtle in his arms and
gently placed her in the front seat. Beth, much amused, took the seat