"Well, when he went to Chelton I located in New Hampshire; that's where
I belong."
"Do you? That's where we are going—to the White Mountains, after a little stay in the Berkshires," finished Jack, as he handed Cora into the handsome car, and then likewise assisted Hazel and Belle.
"Well, I guess we can fix you up then," said the old gentleman, in that hearty manner that can never be mistaken for mere politeness. "I have a girl of my own. We are in the Berkshires now."
"I will be delighted to know——" then Cora stopped. She had not yet heard the gentleman's name.
"Betty Rand—that's my girl. She's Elizabeth, of course, but Betty's good enough for me. Get right in here, girlie," to Belle. "Got room enough?"
"Oh, yes, plenty, thank you," and Belle slipped down into the cushions with an audible sigh.
"Well, you can depend upon Benson. See that! He's got the car hitched already! Never saw a fellow like Benson," and Mr. Rand spread the robe over the knees of Belle and Cora, with whom he sat, while Hazel had taken the small chair. "Keep warm," he told her. "Night air out here is trickish. I always take plenty of robes along."
Hazel assured him that she had every comfort, and then they heard Ed toot the horn of the Flyaway, as he and Bess started off in the lead. Walter was in his Comet, and when Jack was sure that everything was in readiness for the Whirlwind to be towed after the big six-cylinder machine, he jumped into his Get-There, and presently the whole party was off again, going toward Lenox.
It was a wonderful relief—every one felt it—to be moving away from dread and darkness.
"I always come up by night from New York," said Mr. Rand. "The roads are clear, and it saves time. Besides, to-morrow is Betty's birthday, and I have to be home."