It would have been hard to decide whether this remark was vindictive or merely strategic, but it didn't matter, for, outmanœuvring him, she had hurried on, and Stella was enjoying the thrill of being helped in the car, with the additional and unexpected advantage of occupying that front seat.
Her foolish little heart thumped with the engine and thrilled at their speed. It also tingled with a delightful uncertainty as to whether in that stretch of deserted shore-road, in the dark o' the pines—he wouldn't—Phil did, and there was only a feeble, countering "Oh, Mr. Huntington," and a blush from Stella, weak indeed compared to the resounding slap Sally would have given him in her present mood, to say nothing of banishment thereafter from her company. But Philip didn't seem to enjoy the innocent episode. In spite of his immaculate toilet the features looked careworn and haggard, and frequently he endangered their course by furtively looking over his shoulder, to the bewilderment of Stella, who could make out no pursuer, and to her consequent chagrin. But little caring what had happened in the shade of the pines, or anywhere, for that matter, except somewhere on that wide, unspeaking ocean, Sally went home to face Captain Bluster—and Aunt Abigail.
Aunt Abigail had come to visit, then, worse luck, to stay, and worst of all, to ally herself with her obstinate brother in his championship of Master Philip.
Very spare of frame and also of kind thoughts was Aunt Abigail. Her eyes and the point of her spectacled nose were as sharp as her scent for neighbourhood gossip and possible
