from Beth.

"Indeed you may go, and I'm sure you will enjoy it very much," was her
mother's reply. "But now you'd better run upstairs and get ready, for
you haven't much time."

Jerry, happy to receive her mother's permission, flew to the door.

"It's all right, Beth dear," she called. "I may go."

"Oh, I'm so glad," answered Beth; "be sure you're ready at eleven."

CHAPTER II

THE MOTOR TRIP

"Mercy, goodness! Five minutes to eleven, and I can't find my hat," and
poor Jerry darted from one closet to another in her search. "Where do
you suppose it is?"

"It's just where you left it," answered Mary, who had arrived ten
minutes before and had been helping Jerry hunt for the missing hat.
"Now stop running around and try to think a minute."

Jerry stood still and thought very hard.

"Why, I believe it's--it's in my hat box, you dear thing! Why didn't
you tell me to do that before?" and Jerry darted up the stairs to her
room, and in another minute called out:

"Yes, here it is, safe and sound," at which Mary burst into laughter.

"Honk, honk!" sounded from without.

"Here they are,--here they come," and both girls flew to meet Beth, who
had just stepped out of the car as it stopped before the house.

Mrs. White followed the girls down the path and Uncle Billy smilingly
promised her to have the girls home before dark.

"Jerry, you sit in front for a while with Uncle Billy," suggested
Beth. "I think it will be nice if we take turns riding beside him."

"Fine idea," laughed Uncle Billy, "then I can get acquainted with all
of you."

Jerry climbed in the front seat while Mary and Beth sat in the wide
seat behind, with a large wicker lunch basket on the floor before them.

"Good-bye," they called as the car started, and Mrs. White waved her
handkerchief until they were out of sight.

It was the beautiful month of September and the leaves were turning to
red and gold. The air was soft and cool against their faces and the sky
was dotted here and there with tiny white clouds that looked like
little ships sailing on an ocean of blue.

Uncle Billy had headed the car toward the west and it sped down the
country road, leaving the town of Merryvale far behind. Past fields and
farms they flew, through woodlands and over little bridges under which
ran tiny, bubbling brooks.

"It's like being in fairyland," whispered Mary. "Look, the leaves have
made a gold and crimson carpet."

"Yes, and at night the fai