Tish was down early to breakfast that morning and her manner forbade any
mention of the night before. Aggie, however, noticed that she ate her
cereal with her left hand and used her right arm only when absolutely
necessary. Once before Tish had almost broken an arm cranking a car and
had been driven to arnica compresses for a week; but this time we dared
not suggest anything.
Shortly after breakfast she came down to the porch where Aggie and I
were knitting.
"I've hurt my arm, Lizzie," she said. "I wish you'd come out and crank
the car."
"You'd better stay at home with an arm like that," I replied stiffly.
"Very well, I'll crank it myself."
"Where are you going?"
"To the drug store for arnica."
Bettina was not there, so I turned on Tish sharply. "I'll go, of
course," I said; "but I'll not go without speaking my mind, Letitia
Carberry. By and large, I've stood by you for twenty-five years, and
now in the weakness of your age I'm not going to leave you. But I warn
you, Tish, if you touch that racing-car again, I'll send for Charlie
Sands."
"I haven't any intention of touching it again," said Tish, meekly
enough. "But I wish I could buy a second-hand racer cheap."
"What for?" Aggie demanded.
Tish looked at her with scorn. "To hold flowers on the dining-table,"
she snapped.
It being necessary, of course, to leave a chaperon with Bettina, because
of the Jasper person's habit of coming over at any hour of the day, we
left Aggie with instructions to watch them both.
Tish and I drove to the drug store together, and from there to a garage
for gasoline. I have never learned to say "gas" for gasoline. It seems
to me as absurd as if I were to say "but" for butter. Considering that
Aggie was quite sulky at being left, it is absurd for her to assume an
air of virtue over what followed that day. Aggie was only like a lot of
people--good because she was not tempted; for it was at the garage that
we met Mr. Ellis.
We had stopped the engine and Tish was quarreling with the man about
the price of gasoline when I saw him--a nice-looking young man in a
black-and-white checked suit and a Panama hat. He came over and stood
looking at Tish's machine.
"Nice lines to that car," he said. "Built for speed, isn't she? What do
you get out of her?"