Clay laughed, with a touch of diffidence that became him.
“What’s twenty miles, even on a hill road, when you’re anxious to see your friends?”
He watched her as closely as he dared, for some hint of response, but he was puzzled by her manner.
“It isn’t a road,” she laughed. “Some day you’ll come here in pieces.”
“You ought to know. But come along—I believe my aunt is curious about you.”
When he was presented, Miss Dexter gave him a glance of candid scrutiny. Aynsley was marked by a certain elegance and careless good humor, which were not the qualities she most admired in young men, but she liked his face and the frankness of his gaze. If he were one of the idle rich, he was, she thought, a rather good specimen.
“What is your profession?” she asked him bluntly, when they had talked a few moments.
“It’s rather difficult to state, because my talents and pursuits are varied. I’m a bit of a naturalist, and something of a yachtsman, while I really think I’m smart at handling a refractory automobile. When I was younger, it was my ambition to ride a raw cayuse, but now one grapples with the mysteries of valves and cams. The times change, though one can’t be sure that they improve.”
“I’m afraid you hold my father’s utilitarian views, but there’s room for a difference of opinion about what constitutes hard work. To-day, for instance, I spent two hours lying on my back beneath the car and fitting awkward little bolts into holes; then I drove her fifty miles in three hours over a villainous road, graded with rocks and split fir-trees. As I’ve another twenty miles to go, my own opinion is that I’ll have done enough for any ordinary man when I get through.”
“And how much better off is the community for your labors?”
“It’s some consolation that nobody’s much the worse, but I’ve known the community suffer when it was slow in getting out of the way.”
Though she shook her head disapprovingly, there was a gleam of amusement in Miss Dexter’s eyes.
“I suppose you’re a product of your age, and can’t be blamed for the outlook your environment has forced upon you. After all, there are more harmful toys than cars and yachts; enjoy them strenuously while you can. It may fit you for something sterner when you lose your taste for them. And there’s something in your look which makes me think that time may come.”