LITMIR.BIZ

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the smooth, hard road, “I can’t take you and Nan with me both at once.”

      “Never mind, girlie; when we feel as sociable as that, we’ll go in the big car. Now, Patty, let me see you change the speed.”

      Then followed a careful lesson, in speed changing, stopping suddenly, turning, going backward, and all the various emergencies that occur in driving.

      “You certainly are a born motorist, Patty,” said her father, at last. “You are unusually clever and quick-witted about knowing what to do, and doing it swiftly and cleanly. Hesitation in motoring often means trouble.”

      “It’s because I love it, father. I’d rather motor than go driving or boating or even flying. Aren’t you glad I don’t want an aëroplane, daddy?”

      “You wouldn’t get it, if you did. Not even if you earned it yourself, as you did this car. Now, Patty, turn around and let’s go home.”

      Skilfully, Patty turned around, and they sped on their homeward way.

      “Some things you must promise me, Patty,” said her father, seriously, as they drew near the house. “Never start out without knowing pretty definitely how long it will take you, and when you’ll return. Never go without being sure you have enough current for the trip. Of course, Miller will look after this for you, but I want you to understand it thoroughly yourself.”

      “Yes, I want to learn all about the working parts, and how to repair them, if necessary.”

      “That will come later. Learn to run it perfectly, first. And, too, I want you to promise never to start anywhere so late that there’s even a possibility of your being out after dark. I wouldn’t let you go out alone, or with a girl friend, in the city, but down here you may do so, if you never travel except by daylight. You understand, Patty?”

      “Yes, father, and I promise. As you know, I only want to go on little, short drives, two or three hours, usually.”

      “Very well. I trust you not to do anything of which I would disapprove. You’re a good girl, Patty; at least, you mean to be. But sometimes your enthusiasms and inclinations run away with you, and you have no sense of moderation.”

      “H’m,” said Patty, smiling; “now I’ve been lectured enough for one lesson, father dear. Save the rest for another day, and watch me whiz up this drive to the house like an expert.”

      She did so, and Nan, awaiting them, exclaimed with pride at Patty’s skilful driving.

      “Your turn now, Nan,” the girl called out; then, mindful of her promise, she looked at her watch. “It’s just three,” she said. “Let’s go over to the Arbutus Inn Tea Room, have a cup of tea, and get back home before six? How’s that, father?”

      “That’s all right, my good little girl. I don’t believe you’ll have any trouble running it, do you?”

      “No, indeed! It’s as easy as pie! I just love to run it.”

      Soon Nan was ready, and the two started off in great glee.

      “I can hardly believe you really have the car, Patty; didn’t you learn to run it very quickly?”

      “Well, you see, I have driven cars before. Big ones, I mean. And this is different, but so much simpler, that it’s no trouble at all. Oh! Nan, isn’t the scenery gorgeous?”

      Gorgeous wasn’t at all the right word, but a tamer one would not have suited Patty’s mood. They were rolling along the coast: on one side the ocean; on the other, an ever-changing panorama of seashore settlements with their hotels and cottages, interspersed with stretches of fine woods, or broad, level vistas with distant horizons.

      “It’s beautiful, Patty. We’ll have a lovely time this summer.”

      “Yes; don’t let’s have too much company. I’d like to have Christine down for a few weeks, and of course Elise will make us a visit; but I don’t want that horde of boys.”

      “Why not?” asked Nan, in amazement, for Patty greatly enjoyed the boys’ calls in New York.

      “Oh, I don’t know! It’s so quiet and peaceful, just with us; and, if they come, they’ll stir up picnics and dances and all sorts of things.”

      “I know what’s the matter with you, Patty,” said Nan, laughing; “you’ve got automobile fever! You just want to ride and ride in this pretty car of yours, along these good roads, and just give yourself up to indolent enjoyment of it.”

      “That’s just it! How did you know, Nan?”

      “Oh, everybody feels that way when they first own a car. I’ve often noticed it. Sometimes they want to ride entirely alone, and just revel in automobility.”

      “Gracious, Nan! What a word! Well, I might want to go all alone once in a while; but usually I want some one to rave about it all with me.”

      “Well, I’m ready to rave at any time. Isn’t that the Inn, off there to the right?”

      “Yes, so it is. How quickly we’ve come! Nan, there’s a line of poetry in my mind, and I can’t think of it.”

      “Oh, what a catastrophe! Is it the only line you know?”

      “Don’t be silly. But, truly, I do want to think of it, for it’s about the name of this car.”

      “Perhaps a cup of tea will quicken your wits.”

      “Perhaps. Well, we’ll try. Jump out, Nan; here we are.”

      By a clever little contrivance, Patty could lock her car, and so feel sure it would not be tampered with. In a country place, like this somewhat primitive roadhouse where they now were, this was a decided satisfaction.

      The Tea Room, though small, was dainty and attractive. It was kept by two pleasant-faced spinsters, and, though their clientèle was not large, they sometimes served guests at several tables.

      “Only a little after four,” said Patty, looking at her watch. “We can stay till five, Nan, and then get home by six.”

      “All right,” returned Nan, who was walking along the narrow garden paths, admiring the old-fashioned flowers and tiny box borders.

      Patty went into the little Inn, ordered tea and hot waffles and cakes, and then returned to Nan.

      “It’s a dear little place,” she said. “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been here before. Tea will be ready in twenty minutes.”

      When served, the little repast was delightful. Old-time silver and old-fashioned china made it all seem quaint and interesting.

      They dawdled over their tea, sometimes chatting, sometimes sitting silent. It was a bit of good fortune that these two were so congenial, for, Fate having thrown them together, they were much in each other’s company. As there was but six years’ difference in their ages, their relation was far more like sisters than like mother and daughter. And, though Nan never dictated to Patty, she taught her much by example, and, at the same time, she herself learned some things from her stepdaughter.

      “S’pect we’d better move on, Nannie,” said Patty, at last, as it was nearly five. “I’ll pay the reckoning for this feast, and then we’ll start. Oh, it has just come to me!”

      “What has?”

      “That line of poetry that I couldn’t think of! This is it, ‘When swift Camilla scours the plain.’”

      “Well, what of it?”

      “Why, it’s the name for my car! Swift Camilla! See?”

      “A pretty name enough. But is she swift?”

      “I’ll speed her going home, and just show you!”

      “Patty, don’t you dare! You know I’m only going to motor

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