telegraph-office as you go through the town? I must wire the family that I'm coming home on the night train.'
A dreadful thing happened when Sheilah was in the telegraph-office. She left Felix's box on the seat she vacated with never a thought that any one would dare touch it. But Peggy would dare touch anything that wasn't labeled dynamite. The first intimation that Sheilah had of the catastrophe was the telltale odor of rose and heliotrope as she approached the car. A moment later she caught a glimpse of bright blue satin and white lace on Peggy's knees, and two bent figures—Hunt and Bertie—evidently picking things up from the floor of the car. Nevin sat in his place behind the wheel.
'I'm terribly sorry,' burst out Peggy at sight of Sheilah, 'but the darned thing was upside down, and every blamed piece of the candy fell out.'
Quite true. Practically everything in Felix's box had become dislodged. What wasn't scattered on the seat and in Peggy's lap, Hunt and Bertie were rescuing from beneath her feet, with accompanying remarks meant to be witty, Sheilah supposed.
'Here's a glacéd strawberry,' scintillated Bertie, holding up the strawberry emery-bag by its loop.
'And a butter-scotch kiss,' Hunt Le Baron followed suit, dangling the mould of beeswax.
'And see the pink lollie-pop, boys, extra size,'
