"Draw the line somewhere," advised Henrietta. "Father is too fond of trying to see what makes the wheels go round to give him carte blanche with any car." "I understand a car thoroughly, Henrietta," said the general. "I have always been fond of mechanics." "I know it, dear," said Henrietta with contrition. "I have always said that if you hadn’t been a general, you would have been a master mechanic." "Thank God, he’s a general," whispered the Watermelon into the small ear of Billy. "To thoroughly appreciate a car, you should take a trip of a week or two," said Bartlett, not glancing at the Watermelon, apparently talking to the general alone. "There is nothing like it. It has revolutionized travel. Have you ever done it, General, spent a month, a week, at least, in your car, going where you wanted, stopping as long as you wanted and as often?" Assured that Alphonse was attending to the gasolene, the general withdrew his invaluable supervision and turned to the others. "We spent a week in the car last summer, and we intended to do it again this year, but have somehow put it off." "It’s perfectly delightful," said Henrietta. "You wonder how you ever tolerated a train." "It is tramping idealized," declared Bartlett. "It’s dandy," cried Billy. "Daddy, do you remember that time we went from Maine straight down the coast to Maryland?" The general turned to the Watermelon. "I suppose you have grown tired of it," said he, "A young unmarried man can go when and where he wants." "Oh, I’ve been around some," admitted the Watermelon modestly. "But never in a car." "You should try it, my dear sir," said Bartlett. "Upon my word, you have no idea how fascinating it is." "I never owned a car." "You do now," laughed Henrietta. "Now’s your chance." "I’ve no one to go with," replied the Watermelon innocently, smiling down at Henrietta on the car step and not looking at Bartlett. Henrietta laughed and threw out one of her delicate, graceful hands with a little gesture that embraced the whole group. "You have all of us, now," said she. "We have made you one of us." Bartlett agreed with a chuckle. Things were coming his way with hardly any effort on his part, as they, had had a way of doing until William Hargrave Batchelor had made himself too annoying. He took it as a good sign and smiled cheerfully. "You can take us all," laughed Billy. "A week," said Bartlett tentatively, "in the country, away from telegrams and letters and papers, it would do me a vast amount of good. I have been overworking lately." He nodded gravely, in confirmation of his own remark. "I would like to drop everything, now, this minute, crank up the car and start, no matter where, any place, any road. You don’t need clothes. The lighter you travel, the better. You can put up anywhere you happen to be for the night, and, if you get lost it does not matter, merely adds to the fun and affords an adventure."