Mr. Farrington’s huge car seemed to be furnished with everything necessary for a long journey. Although they would usually take their meals at hotels in the towns through which they passed, Mrs. Farrington explained they might occasionally wish to have tea or even luncheon on the road, so the car was provided with both tea-basket and luncheon-kit. The novelty of this paraphernalia was fascinating to Patty, and she peeped into the well-appointed baskets with chuckles of delight at the anticipated pleasure of making use of them.
Patty’s trunk was put up on top among the others, her hand-luggage was stowed away in its place, and with affectionate good-byes to Nan and her father, she took her seat in the tonneau between Mrs. Farrington and Elise, and away they started.
Mr. Farrington and Roger, who sat in front, were in the gayest of spirits and everything was promising for a happy journey.
As they threaded their way through the crowded city streets, Patty rejoiced to think that they would soon be out in the open country where they would have wide roads with comparatively few travellers.
“What is the name of your machine, Mr. Farrington?” she asked, as they whizzed along.
“I may as well own up,” that gentleman answered, laughing. “I have named it ‘The Fact.’”
“‘The Fact,’” repeated Patty, “what a funny name. Why do you call it that? You must have some reason.”
“I have,” said Mr. Farrington, in a tone of mock despair. “I call it The Fact because it is a stubborn thing.”
Patty laughed merrily at this. “I’m afraid it’s a libel,” she said, “I’m sure I don’t see anything stubborn about the way it acts. It’s going beautifully.”
“Yes, it is,” said Mr. Farrington, “and I hope it will continue to do so, but I may as well warn you that it has a most reprehensible habit of stopping now and then, and utterly refusing to proceed. And this, without any apparent reason, except sheer stubbornness.”