They embraced there in the shrouding darkness, the tears flowing.

"Oh, Effie--Effie!"

"I didn't mean one word I said, darling! I just get nasty like that
before I know it. I didn't mean it!"

"My own Effie!"

"My darling Mamma Hat!"

In the shadow of a flowering shrub Mr. Goldstone stood by, mopping. Mrs.
Goldstone took the small face between her hands, peering down into it.

"Effie, Effie, don't let--"

Just beyond the enclosing hedge, a motor-car drew up, honking, at the
curb, two far-flung paths of light whitening the street and a disused
iron negro-boy hitching-post. Miss Goldstone reared back.

"That's him!"

"Effie!"

"Let me go, dearie; let me go!"

"But, Effie--"

"Say, Hattie, I don't want to butt in, but it don't hurt the child
should go riding a little while out by Delmar Garden--a man that can