Kenby.
"Oh, what a nuisance!" cried Edna. "We can't go home in this carriage, of
course."
"No, miss," said the driver, who had resigned his horses to a park
policeman, and was examining the break. "But you'll be able to pick up a
cab in the avenue yonder. I'll send for one if you say so."
"What a bore!" said Edna, vexatiously.
Several conveyances had halted, for the occupants to see what the trouble
was. From one of them--an automobile--a large, well-dressed man strode
over and greeted Larcher with the words:
"How are you? Had an accident?"
It was Mr. Bagley. Larcher briefly answered, "Broken axle."
"Well," said Edna, annoyed at being the centre of a crowd, "I suppose
we'd better walk over to Fifth Avenue and take a cab."
"You're quite welcome to the use of my automobile for your party," said
Bagley to Larcher, having swiftly inspected the members of that party.
As Edna, hearing this, glanced at Bagley with interest, and at Larcher
with inquiry, Larcher felt it was his cue to introduce the newcomer. He
did so, with no very good grace. At the name of Bagley, the girls
exchanged a look. Mr. Kenby's manner was gracious, as was natural toward
a man who owned an automobile and had an air of money.
"I'm sorry you've had this break-down," said Bagley, addressing the
party collectively. "Won't you do me the honor of using my car? You're
not likely to find an open carriage in this neighborhood."
"Thank you," said Edna Hill, chillily.
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