“Don’t do it,” Walter advised. “I don’t believe Cora would like it. And really, she arranged this affair, so she ought to make the pace.”
“All right,” assented the new lad, and he had the good sense to see the wisdom of the advice.
They passed the Robinson home, the twins waving and being waved at, and then the four autos turned out on the main road that led into a glorious country–a country doubly glorious this morning because of the rain of the night before.
They were really on the road at last, and as Cora glanced down it, her gloved hands firm on the steering wheel, she could not help wondering if it was this road that the strange and perhaps misunderstood woman had taken when she fled so silently from the Kimball house. Also Cora wondered if she would ever meet her again. The chances were against it and yet—
“Really so many strange things have happened to us on some of our auto trips,” she explained to Eline as they talked it over, “that I would not be surprised if we did see her again–and perhaps—”
“Even that Nancy Ford!” supplied Eline.
“Oh, that would be too much to expect, my dear!” said Cora, with a laugh. “We turn here!” she added, “just hold out your hand, Eline.”
“Hold out my hand?” Eline asked, wonderingly, as she stretched it straight out in front of her. “What for?”
“No, I mean out at the side of the car,” explained Cora. “It is a sign to whoever is coming behind that you are going to turn. It prevents accidents.”
“Oh, I see,” and this time the Chicago girl did it properly.