"
"Is it me to dhrive in it?" demanded Murty, in horror. "Begob, I'd lose
me life before I'd get into one of thim quare, sawed-off things. Give
me something with shafts, Mr. Jim, and a dacint horse in them. More by
token, I would not get up at three in the morning either, but dhrive in
aisy an' comfortable the night before." He beamed on Jim with so clear
a conviction that he was unanswerable that Jim hadn't the heart to
argue further. Instead he ran the car deftly into a buggy-shed whence
an ancient double buggy had been deposed to make room for her, and then
fell to discussing with Murty the question of building a garage, with
a turn-table and pit for cleaning and repairs. To which Murty gave
the eager interest and attention he would have shown had Jim proposed
building anything, even had it been an Eiffel Tower on the front lawn.
Brownie came out through the box-trees to the stables, presently.
"Now, Master Jim, afternoon tea's in these ten minutes."
"Good gracious! I forgot all about tea!" Jim exclaimed. "Thanks awfully,
Brownie. Had your own?" He slipped his arm through hers as they turned
back to the house.
"Not yet, my dear," said Brownie, beaming up at him. That this huge
Major, with four years of war service to his credit, was exactly the
same to her as the little boy she had bathed and dressed in years gone
by, was a matter of nightly thanksgiving in her prayers.
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