"He looks it, doesn't he, Elizabeth!"

If Dad hadn't been such a dear, I should have been annoyed by his
constant requests for my opinion where it was so obviously
unnecessary. But Dad is such a dear. To make it worse, Mr. Porter
seemed to consider that whether he was, or was not, as sound as a
dollar, depended entirely on my answer.

"One would think I was a sort of supreme court from the way Dad
refers all questions to me. But I warn you, Mr. Porter; my 'yes' or
'no' makes little difference in his opinions."

"You are my supreme court, and they do," declared Dad.

"I'm sure they do," said Mr. Porter,

"When the novelty of having me with you has worn off, you'll be your
same old domineering self, Daddy dear."

"Domineering! Hear the minx! I'm a regular lamb, Porter. That
reminds me: When are you going to California!"

"I hadn't thought. That is, I had thought . . . That is, I've wished
. . . I mean I've wondered . . . I hope you won't think me
presumptuous, Mr. Middleton, but I've wondered if you'd allow me to
go on the same train with you and Miss Middleton."

"Why, my dear boy, we'd be delighted. Wouldn't we, Elizabeth!"