Elinor’s eyes were on the actor’s car as he led her to it. She glowed.
“What a stunning little car!” she cried, in delight.
To praise any of Templeton Druid’s possessions was the next best thing to praising him. But it was with a blasé air that he consented to agree with his guest, as he turned the wheel to head toward Long Island.
“Yes, she is a good little car,” he admitted, a bit boredly, as though condescending to praise the machine. “When we get out on the road, I’ll let her out a bit and show you what she can do.”
Elinor’s eyes gained a new sparkle as the air colored her cheeks.
“It seems wonderful to be riding like this,” she enthused. “I’m so tired of always riding behind a chauffeur. Dad wanted to buy me a car of my own, but mother wouldn’t consider it. He is going to buy one for my brother when he graduates, and then I’ll coax Howard into teaching me how to run it.” And Elinor’s eyes brightened with anticipation.
“You don’t have to wait for that,” Templeton answered magnanimously. “I’m going to teach you how to run mine this very day. Just as soon as we strike a nice stretch of road, I’ll put you at the wheel.”
“How perfectly splendid! But I’m afraid you will find me an awkward pupil.”
“I promise not to become impatient,” Templeton laughed, “but I warn you I may exact a tiny payment.”
Elinor caught her breath a little as she recognized the eager boldness with which the actor looked into her eyes, as they paused at a crossing at the command of the uplifted white hand of a traffic officer. But already she had determined that her companion should not put her in the class of the unsophisticated. For this one day she would put behind her all thoughts of prudishness, all the reminders of her mother’s teachings she had come so to despise, but had not quite forgotten. So her blush was belied by the boldness of her words as she pertly retorted: