CHAPTER IV.
VISITING A CAMP Rockwell was soon left far behind, and the Maynards' car flew along the country road, now passing through a bit of woods, and now through a little town, or again crossing a picturesque brook.
The children were delighted with the new experience, and chatted all at once, about the roadside sights.
Pompton, the English chauffeur, though he said little or nothing, was secretly amazed at the gaiety and volubility of the young people.

The children were allowed to take turns sitting in the front seat, and, as was their nature, they talked rapidly and steadily to the somewhat taciturn driver.
"What a funny name you have, Pompton," said Marjorie, as she sat beside him; "at least it seems funny to me, because I never heard it before." "It's a good old English name, Miss," he returned, a little gruffly, "and never been dishonored, as I know of." "Oh, I think it's a very nice name," said Marjorie, quickly, for she had had no intention of being unpleasantly critical, "only I think it's a funny name.

You see Pompton sounds so much like pumpkin." "Do you think so, Miss ?" "Oh, well, it doesn't matter about a name, anyway.

Tell me about your people.

Have you any little boys and girls ?" "No, Miss; I never was married, Miss.