She said finally: "I have to write a few letters--acknowledging some
birthday gifts. Don't wait for me if you intend to go over to
Walter's. You might call at the Robinsons', however, to fetch me;
say at half-past nine."

"Oh, then I'm not to see Bess or Belle--or--well, there are plenty
of other girls just as keen on ice cream sodas as those mentioned,"
and he pretended to leave the room, as if his feelings had been
hurt.

"Now; you know, Jack, I always want you with me, but--"

"But just to-night you don't. All right, little sister. After me
running that machine up from the garage for you, and not even
scraping the tires; after me--even kissing you! Fie! fie! little
girl. Some day you may want another machine--or a kiss--"

"Children, children," called Mrs. Kimball, "are you coming to
dinner? And are you going to put that machine in the shed before
dark, Jack?"

"Both--both, mum! We were just discussing a discussion about
the--the machine, girls and ice cream sodas."

"What nonsense!" exclaimed his mother with a laugh. "Come to
dinner, do. But, Jack, run the machine in first, please."

The car was put under a shed attached to the barn, Cora looking
enviously at Jack as he manipulated the levers and wheels, she
sitting on the seat beside him, on the short run up the driveway.