Let me go with you, Betty?" coaxed Bobby. "Carter will take us in the machine. I won't bother you, and if you have personal business to attend to, I'll wait for you in the library or some place. Cooking and making lace drives me wild, and if you leave me at home as likely as not I'll pick a quarrel with some one before the morning is over.
For lack of a better listener, Betty Gordon addressed the saucy little chipmunk that sat on the top rail of the old worn fence and stared at her with bright, unwinking eyes. "It is the loveliest vase you ever saw," said Betty, busily sorting the tangled mass of grasses and flowers in her lap. "Heavy old colonial glass, you know, plain, but with beautiful lines." The chipmunk continued to regard her gravely.