One night in May--a summer night, warm, lighted by the moon and still--an impulse seized Alice to break away from everything for the country. Morning found her with Fritzie, and accompanied only by their maids, in a big motor-car speeding over the ribbon roads toward Second Lake. A curious play of emotions possessed Alice as they whirled through the dust of the village and swung into the hills toward The Towers. She had given no instructions to her chauffeur as to which road he should take and he had chosen the southern road because the grades were better.
It was months since Alice had seen Kimberly. But not until now did she realize with some apprehension how much he had been in her mind all winter. The near prospect of meeting him disturbed her and she felt an uneasiness at the thought. It was too late to change the route. She felt she had been wrong not to give orders for the north road in time. Then the notion came that she must meet him sometime, anyway, and whenever they met he must be kept within bounds she had set many times since their last hour together. She could see in the distance The Towers gates and the lodge, sentinel-like, away up the road. The mere sight of the familiar entrance brought Kimberly up sharply. The chauffeur checked the car to ask whether he should drive through the grounds. Fritzie said, "Yes."
Alice corrected her, "No, no."
"Why, my dear," exclaimed Fritzie, "not stop to speak to Robert!"
"It will delay us, and I am crazy to get home."
"But it will cut off two miles!"
"And keep us an hour."
"It won't keep us five minutes and the grounds are beautiful."
"We will see them to-morrow. Drive straight ahead, Peters."
Fritzie protested as they flew past the lodge. "I feel like a heathen going by The Towers in this way. I hope Robert won't hear of it."