He showed himself, indeed, all that was helpful and amiable. He not only
brought around the car, he went up and helped Thomas with stubborn studs
and a refractory tie. He stood respectfully aside to let his brother wrap
Sylvia's coat around her, and held open the door of the car.

"Have a good time!" he shouted after them, as they plunged out of sight,
somewhat jerkily, for Thomas, who had not driven a great deal, was not a
master of gear-shifting. His mother looked at him anxiously.

"I can't help feelin' you're up to some deviltry, Austin," she said
uneasily, "though I don't know just what 'tis. I'm kinder nervous about
this plan of them goin' off to Wallacetown."

"I'm not," said Austin with a wicked grin, and took out his French
dictionary.

The first part of the evening, however, seemed to indicate that Mrs.
Gray's fears were groundless. Sylvia and Thomas reached the
Moving-Picture Palace without mishap, though they had left the Homestead
so late owing to the latter's change of attire and the slow rate at which
the mud and his lack of skill had obliged them to ride, that the audience
was already assembled, and "The Terror of the Plains," a stirring tale of
an imaginary West, was in full progress before they were seated. Thomas's
dress-suit did not fail to attract immediate attention and equally
immediate remarks, and Sylvia, who hated to be conspicuous, felt her
cheeks beginning to burn. But--more sincerely than Mr. Elliott--she
decided that it was better to wait until the entertainment was over than
to attract further notice by going out at once. Thomas, less sensitive
than she, enjoyed himself thoroughly.