“Oh, wait until to-morrow for that, Miss Vanity. I know you drive beautifully, but I want to see how this thing works, myself. You know I guessed some few of those puzzles.”
“Yes, I know you did. All right, then, you drive.”
Philip assisted Patty in, and then took his own place and grasped the steering-bar and the controller.
“My, but she is a daisy! All the modern kinks in the way of mechanism!”
They circled the driveway twice, and, when passing the veranda, Patty turned to wave her hand to her father and Nan, she discovered they were not there. “Why, they must have gone in!” she said, in surprise.
“Perhaps they went down to the beach,” suggested Van Reypen. “Let’s go and see.”
They were near the gateway then, and, before Patty knew it, Philip had swung the car through, and they were spinning along the shore road.
The top of the car was down, and they had an unobstructed view of sea and shore. The night was still, save for the pounding of the surf, and the crested billows frothed and dashed on the white sand. The moon touched everything with its magic, and the sea, the beach, and the inland were alike shining with a silver glory. The smooth, hard road stretched ahead of them like a white ribbon, and it was small wonder that Philip Van Reypen did not stifle the impulse to send the car spinning ahead.
“Oh!” breathed Patty, entranced by the wonderful beauty of the night, and the exhilaration of that swift, soundless, gliding motion through it.
“Isn’t it great!” whispered Philip. “Did you ever know anything like it?”