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"If you're half as wonderful as Beatrice says, Mr. Teeftallow, this is my lucky day."

"He's a sort of brother of mine," beamed Beatrice.

"I hope so," laughed Adelaide.

"But he's wonderful, just the same!"

"All men are wonderful, dear, and the bigger they are the more wonderful they become." Her glance complimented Abner's size.

Beatrice tipped her head at her companion. "Now, you aren't going to vamp him under my nose, Adelaide."

"As if I could! Do get in here between us, Mr. Teeftallow"—she moved to make room—"we're just going out for a drive."

Abner, who had received his introduction, compliment, and invitation to ride without the chance to say a word, now mumbled out an awkward "Much obliged," and got into the front seat by Miss Jones. He was at once enveloped in an atmosphere of perfume. Beatrice Belle took the wheel again and was about to start when her father called, "B'atrice Belle, I want you to take us out to the old Coltrane place."

"All right, Dad, anywhere," and then she added cheerfully, "I hope I can knock the old machine to pieces so I'll get a new one."

"If she does," stipulated Miss Jones in a low tone to Abner, "you must hold me in. I'm so little I'll bounce out."

"I—I will," agreed Abner, with awkward seriousness.

The motor moved eastward with a faint knocking in the purr of its engine. The girls continued their chatter and laughter. Beatrice Belle asked Abner a dozen questions without giving him time to answer one. Now and then she would call absently over her shoulder, "Is this the right road, Pappy?" and then would not wait for a reply.

Miss Jones was explaining with vehemence how she adored literature, especially Poe. She said she was a regular Poe fan, and her teacher in the girls' seminary in Nashville where she had been to school was as nutty over Poe as she was.