Chapter 16

It had been a particularly delightful day with the Hilcrest house-party. They had gone early in the morning to Silver Lake for a picnic. A sail on the lake, a delicious luncheon, and a climb up “Hilltop” had filled every hour with enjoyment until five o’clock when they had started for home.

Two of the guests had brought their own motor-cars to Hilcrest, and it was in one of these that Miss Kendall was making the homeward trip.

“And you call this a ‘runabout,’ Mr. Brandon?” she laughed gaily, as the huge car darted forward. “I should as soon think of having an elephant for an errand boy.”

Brandon laughed.

“But just wait until you see the elephant get over the ground,” he retorted. “And, after all, the car isn’t so big when you compare it with Harlow’s or Frank’s. It only seats two, you know, but its engine is quite as powerful as either of theirs. I want you to see what it can do,” he finished, as he began gradually to increase their speed.

For some time neither spoke. The road ran straight ahead in a narrowing band of white that lost itself in a thicket of green far in the distance. Yet almost immediately—it seemed to Margaret—the green was at their right and their left, and the road had unwound another white length of ribbon that flung itself across the valley and up the opposite hill to the sky-line.

Houses, trees, barns, and bushes rushed by like specters, and the soft August air swept by her cheeks like a November gale. Not until the opposite hill was reached, however, did Brandon slacken speed.

“You see,” he exulted, “we can just annihilate space with this!”

“You certainly can,” laughed Margaret, a little hysterically. “And you may count yourself lucky if you don’t annihilate anything else.”

Brandon brought the car almost to a stop.

“I was a brute. I frightened you,” he cried with quick contrition.

The girl shook her head. A strange light came to her eyes.

“No; I liked it,” she answered. “I liked it—too well. Do you know? I never dare to run a car by myself—very much. I learned how, and had a little runabout of my own at college, and I run one now sometimes. But it came over me one day—the power there was under my fingers. Almost involuntarily I began to let it out. I went faster and faster—and yet I did not go half fast enough. Something seemed to be pushing me on, urging me to even greater and greater speed. I wanted to get away, away——! Then I came to myself. I was miles from where I should have been, and in a locality I knew nothing about. I had no little difficulty in getting back to where I belonged, besides having a fine or two to pay, I believe. I was frightened and ashamed, for everywhere I heard of stories of terrified men, women, children, and animals, and of how I had narrowly escaped having death itself to answer for as a result of my mad race through the country. And yet—even now—to-day, I felt that wild exhilaration of motion. I did not want to stop. I wanted to go on and on——” She paused suddenly, and fell back in her seat. “You see,” she laughed with a complete change of manner, “I am not to be trusted as a chauffeur.”