“Oh, go to bed!” murmured Jeff.

* * * * *

CHAPTER VII

“Nobody at home, eh?  Well, I’m sorry.  I wanted to see somebody very much.  And there’s no one at the other house, either.  I’m away so much I see altogether too little of these people, Mrs. Fields.”  Thus spoke Doctor Forester of the city—­the old friend and family counselor of both Birches and Churchills.

His son Frederic—­who had managed since his return from study abroad to see much more of the Birch household than his father—­was watching the conversation on the door-step from his position in the driver’s place on Doctor Forester’s big automobile, which stood at the curb.  It was a cool day in May, and a light breeze was blowing.

“I don’t know but Miss Evelyn’s in the house somewhere,” admitted Mrs. Fields.  “But I don’t suppose you’d care to see her?”

“Miss Evelyn?  Why, certainly I should!  Please ask her to come down.”

So presently Evelyn was at the door, her slender hand in the big one of the distinguished gentleman of whom she stood a little in awe.

“All alone, Miss Evelyn?” said Doctor Forester.  “Then suppose you get your hat and a warm jacket and come with us.  Fred and I expected to pick up whomever we found and take them for a little run down to a certain place on the river.”

Such an invitation was not to be resisted.  Doctor Churchill and Charlotte were at the hospital; Randolph was with them, visiting his friends and proteges among the convalescent boys.  Lucy had gone to town with the Birches, and nobody knew where Jeff and Just might be.

“Suppose you sit back in the tonneau with me,” Doctor Forester suggested.  “Fred likes to be the whole thing on the front seat there.”

He put Evelyn in and tucked her up.  “Wearing a cap?  That’s good sense.  It spoils my fun to take in a passenger with all sails spread.  Hello, son, what are you stopping for?  Oh, I see!”

It was Celia Birch beside whom the motor was bringing up with such a sudden check to its speed.  She had appeared at the corner of the street and had instantly presented to the quick vision of Mr. Frederic Forester a good and sufficient reason for coming to a stop.

“Please come with us!” urged that young man, jumping out.  “We’ve been to the house for you.”

Celia put her hand to her head, “Just as I am?” she asked.

“Just as you are.  That little chapeau will stay on all right.  If it doesn’t I’ll lend you my cap.  Will you keep me company in front?  Father has appropriated Miss Evelyn behind there.”

Celia mounted to the seat, and they were off through the wide streets, and presently away in the country, spinning along at a rate much faster than either passenger realised.  The machine was a fine one, operating with so little fuss and fret that the speed it was capable of attaining was not always appreciated.