let me put him into a motor mask and attach him to the procession."

"Well, of course, Win," Patty answered, "of course we must have him if
you feel so strongly about it. It's a pity," she ended mischievously,
"that he dislikes me so much."

"That's because you dislike him. But just wait till you know one
another."

"I will," she answered with a spirit which promised well for the future.
"I'll wait."

And Winthrop was so touched and gratified by her complaisance that he
had no alternative, save to duplicate it, when the following evening
brought him this communication:

"Kate Perry and I were playing golf this morning. And, oh! Win, it seems
just too dreadful! I banged her between the eyes with my driver. I can't
think how I ever did it. She's not fit to be seen. Awful! worse than Mr.
Mead can possibly be. She can't stay here and she can't go home to
Washington.

"So, now, if you will consent, we shall be four instead of three. Let me
take poor Kate. She can wear a thick veil and sit in behind with Mr.
Mead, in his goggles, and leave the front seats for us. They'll be
company for one another."

Winthrop questioned this final sentence. A supercilious, spoiled
beauty--a beauty now doubly spoiled and presumedly bad tempered--was
hardly an ideal companion for the misanthropic Mead.