We sat as if petrified. Bill was Ida's cousin! The way of the transgressor is hard; though why one should have to lose a reputation built up by years of careful living just for one silly indiscretion is what gets me. I put a hand on Ferd's arm.
"I'm gone!" I wailed. "It will be all over town to-morrow. Bill's the worst old gossip. Oh, Ferd!"
"He didn't see you," Ferd snapped. "For goodness' sake, Fan, shut up! This is my mess. There isn't any limit to the things he can say about me."
We bumped on a little farther. I was crying, I'll admit; my head ached and my spine was jarred numb.
"You'll have to do one thing," he said at last. "You'll have to tell Ida it was you. Heaven knows what she'll think."
"I'll die first!" I snapped.
Well, we got into town finally and it was three-thirty by the first clock we saw. Ferd got out and looked at the car, and then climbed in again.
"Better get along a few blocks and then leave it," he said. "It looks something fierce, and so do we."
And at that instant, before I could even start the engine, we were arrested for stealing the miserable thing!
"There is some mistake," Ferd said loftily, but looking green in the electric light. "This is Mrs. Day Illington and this is her own machine."