question, before I answer yours."

"I know. You're afraid I'll want to be following you again," said Nick.
"But following wasn't in my mind. I want to _take_ you in my new
automobile."

She stared in amazement.

"You extraordinary person! As if I _could_ do such a thing!"

"Why not?" He asked it meekly, looking boyish, ready to be rebuked and
snubbed--and yet to make his point. "I expect, when you were at
home--wherever that was--you were used to travelling sometimes with your
maid, in a motor, and nobody else except your chauffeur?" (Nick pronounced
this word rather originally, but this was a detail.)

"Certainly. That's entirely different."

"Now you've got a cat too."

Angela broke into laughter. This man, and this day, were unique. She was
delighted with herself for forgiving Mr. Hilliard. Because, of course, she
could unforgive him again at any minute, if it seemed really best.

When a woman laughs at your _bon mot_, there is hope. There is also
happiness. Nick felt both. They came in a gust, like a spray of perfume in
his face, taking his breath away. "I believe she'll do it," he said to
that sympathetic chum--himself, who was taking the kindliest interest in
his love affairs. "It's up to me now."