For a few moments Bill sat looking at the yellow head and smiling gently at it.  Then he had an inspiration to drive right past her and see if she would speak to him.  She had been far from cordial the day before and Farnsworth was uncertain whether she wanted to see him or not.

So, driving slowly, he passed by Patty in her motionless car.

Patty jumped at the sound of some one coming, and intending to ask help, held out her hand and said, “Please—­” before she realised who it was.

Farnsworth turned his head, stopped his car, whipped off his cap and jumped out, saying, as he walked toward Patty’s car, “An accident, ma’am?  Can I help you?”

A spirit of perversity rose in Patty’s heart.  Without knowing why, she desired to inflict a hurt on the man who was smiling at her.

“I beg your pardon,” she said, coldly, “I thought you were a stranger.”

“I’ll be a stranger, if you like,” and Farnsworth bowed profoundly.

“Very well, I wish you would.  Pray proceed with your journey,” and Patty bowed, and turned her head toward the opposite landscape.

“But you would ask a stranger to help you,” said Farnsworth, feeling a strong desire to shake the exasperating little pink figure.

“Not every stranger,” said Patty.  “I am waiting to select the one I want.”

“Oh, do select me!  I’m an awfully nice stranger, and incidentally, I could fix that car of yours in a jiffy.”

“Did Adele order you to fix this car?” and Patty’s blue eyes gave Bill a look of withering scorn.

“No, she did not.”

“Then I can’t think of allowing you to do it.  I don’t want you to do anything for me except at Adele’s orders!”

“You little goose!  I’ve a notion to kidnap you, wild roses and all, and take you off in my car.”

“Did Adele order you to do that?”

“Patty, stop this nonsense!  Of course I know what you mean, that I asked you to dance in Adele’s name, instead of in my own.”

“Yes; I admit I prefer to be asked to dance, personally, and not vi-vike—­”

“Vicariously is the word you are floundering over,” said Farnsworth with utmost gravity; “well, now, I’ll fix your car vicariously, or personally, or any old way you like,—­if you’ll just behave yourself and smile upon me.”

“I don’t want my car fixed.”

“You prefer to stay here?”

“I do.”

“Alone?”

“Alone.”  Patty tried very hard to look like a stone image but only succeeded in looking like a very pretty pink-cheeked girl.

However, at her last word, and when Patty was just about to break into a dimpled smile, Farnsworth achieved a most dignified and conventional bow, replaced his cap, and without another glance at Patty, deliberately got into his car and drove away.  He passed Patty, continuing east, and in a few moments was lost to sight, as he flew down the road at a swift pace.