“That’s so!” exclaimed Cora, with a tragic gesture. “I knew I had forgotten something. I had down on my notes ‘Cousin Mary–where?’ and I took it to mean where would I put her to sleep. I see now it was where should I put her to ride.”
“Let her come with us!” exclaimed Bess. “You can take one of our suit cases in your car, and that will leave plenty of room for your cousin.”
“I guess that’s all we can do now,” said Cora. “Oh, dear, I thought I had fixed everything!”
“Don’t fuss, my dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Fordam. “It will be all right. Your car is so big that I’m really afraid of it.”
So it was arranged, and when a few other forgotten matters had been settled, Cora gave the last instructions to the care-taker of the Kimball home, and blew a blast on her auto horn as a signal to start.
“At last we are off!” sighed Eline, as she sat beside Cora. “It seems as if time moves slowest of all at the end.”
“It really does,” agreed Cora. “I’m glad we are able to start. When I saw that blaze in the garage–Oh, my dear, you’ve no idea how my heart sank. It almost stopped beating.”
“I can imagine so. What a pretty suit you have,” and she glanced admiringly at Cora’s smart motoring costume. It was a light biscuit shade, of a material that would stand wear, and not show the stains of travel.
“Your own is fully as pretty–perhaps a little too nice,” returned Cora. Eline had made rather elaborate preparations for her Eastern trip, as regarded dress. But she was within good taste, for she ran much to harmonizing shades–perhaps too much so.
“Are we going at this snail’s pace all day?” cried Jack to his sister. “Can’t you move faster?”
“We want the good people of Chelton to have a chance to admire us,” called Belle.
“Shall we pass her?” asked Norton of Walter. “My car can easily get ahead of the Whirlwind.”
“Don’t do it,” Walter advised. “I don’t believe Cora would like it. And really, she arranged this affair, so she ought to make the pace.”
“All right,” assented the new lad, and he had the good sense to see the wisdom of the advice.
They passed the Robinson home, the twins waving and being waved at, and then the four autos turned out on the main road that led into a glorious country–a country doubly glorious this morning because of the rain of the night before.
They were really on the road at last, and as Cora glanced down it, her gloved hands firm on the steering wheel, she could not help wondering if it was this road that the strange and perhaps misunderstood woman had taken when she fled so silently from the Kimball house. Also Cora wondered if she would ever meet her again. The chances were against it and yet —
“Really so many strange things have happened to us on some of our auto trips,” she explained to Eline as they talked it over, “that I would not be surprised if we did see her again–and perhaps – ”
“Even that Nancy Ford!” supplied Eline.
“Oh, that would be too much to expect, my dear!” said Cora, with a laugh. “We turn here!” she added, “just hold out your hand, Eline.”
“Hold out my hand?” Eline asked, wonderingly, as she stretched it straight out in front of her. “What for?”
“No, I mean out at the side of the car,” explained Cora. “It is a sign to whoever is coming behind that you are going to turn. It prevents accidents.”
“Oh, I see,” and this time the Chicago girl did it properly.
CHAPTER V
A FLOCK OF SHEEP
“What a delightful road!”
“Isn’t it splendid!”
“Too perfect!”
It was Cora who made the first remark, Eline who answered and the Robinson twins who chorused the third. The highway was so wide, and there was so little traffic thus early in the morning, that the two cars could run side by side. On high gear with the gas throttled down they made scarcely any noise, so that conversation was possible.
“I don’t know what I have done to enjoy such pleasure,” said Mrs. Fordam.
“Are you really enjoying it, Cousin Mary?” inquired Cora.
“Indeed I am, my dear! I wouldn’t have missed it for a good deal. I never knew before how delightful it was to be chaperone to such nice girls.”
“I’m sorry I can’t stop steering long enough to pass you a chocolate candy!” exclaimed Bess. “Belle, you will have to do it for me. Such compliments!”
“No, I really mean it,” declared Mrs. Fordam, earnestly.
“Wait until the boys begin to cut up,” warned Cora.
“Oh, I know Jack of old,” returned the chaperone. “He can’t do anything very bad.”
“They seem to be hatching up some sort of a plot back there,” remarked Eline, as she looked to the rear where Jack’s gaudy red and yellow car was careening alongside the Beetle– that owned by Norton. It had been so christened because of its low, rakish appearance, and the fact that it was painted a dead black. It was not a pretty car, but it had speed, as Norton often boasted.
“Oh, I’ve no doubt they will do something,” conceded Belle. “But we can do things too!”
They ran on for some distance, this stretch of the road being particularly fine. They were under a perfect arch of maple trees, which, being planted on either side of the road, mingled their branches over the centre, affording a delightful shade. It was needed, too, in a measure, for the sun, creeping higher and higher in the blue sky, was sending down beams of heat, as well as light. There was gentle wind, which was accentuated by the motion of the machines.
“Is it hard to learn to drive a car?” asked Eline, as Bess and Belle combined in telling Mrs. Fordam something of the excitement of the previous night, she not having arrived until it was over.
“It is, my dear, at first,” Cora explained. “Then it all seems to come to you at once. Why you’d never believe it, but first I used to imagine I was going to hit everything on the road. I gave objects such a wide berth that everyone laughed at me. But I did not want to take chances. Now watch!”
She speeded up a little, and turning to one side seemed to be headed straight for a tree.
“Oh!” screamed Eline, and Bess and Belle echoed the cry.
“There!” cried Cora, as she skillfully passed it, far enough off for safety, as even the most careful motorist would admit, but near enough to make an amateur nervous. “You see what it is to have confidence,” she added to Eline.
“Yes,” was the somewhat doubtful comment.
“Cora, dear, I wouldn’t take those risks if I were you,” rebuked her Cousin Mary, gently.
“Oh, it wasn’t a risk at all! I had perfect control. I just wanted to show Eline what practice will do. I am going to teach her to drive.”
“I’ll never learn!” was the nervous protest.
The road narrowed about a mile farther on, but before the cars lengthened out into single file again, Belle asked:
“Where are we to lunch, Cora?”
“I planned on stopping at Mooreville. There is a nice, home-like restaurant there. We’ll be in Churchton soon, and we can stop there and ’phone in to have a meal ready for a party of nine.”
“That would be a good idea.”
Churchton