ore seen a
farmer in the queer overalls, and big straw hat, that our old country
gentleman wore, I daresay I should have thought his appearance quite as
crazy as that of Mr. Phelps."

"You have a logical mind, Patty," said Mrs. Farrington, "and on the whole
I think you are right."

CHAPTER XIII

A STORMY RIDE

The time passed quickly and soon the drive was over, and after calling
for their well-filled luncheon-basket, the quartet returned to the repair
shop to find Mr. Farrington all ready to start.

So into the car they all bundled, and Patty learned that each fresh start
during a motor journey revives the same feeling of delight that is felt
at the beginning of the trip.

She settled herself in her place with a little sigh of contentment, and
remarked that she had already begun to feel at home in The Fact, and she
only wished it was early morning, and they were starting for the day,
instead of but for a few hours.

"Don't you worry, my lady," said Roger, as he laid his hands lightly on
the steering-wheel, "you've a good many solid hours of travel ahead of
you right now. It's four o'clock, and if we reach Pine Branches by ten, I
will pat this old car fondly on the head, before I put her to bed."

The next few hours were perhaps the pleasantest they had yet spent. In
June, from four to seven is a delightful time, and as the roads were
perfect, and the car went along without the slightest jar or jolt, and
without even a hint of an accident of any sort, there was really not a
flaw to mar their pleasure.

As the sun set, and the twilight began to close around them, Patty
thought she had never seen anything more beautiful than the landscape
spread out before them. A broad white road stretched ahead like a ribbon.
On either side were sometimes green fields, darkening in the fading
light, and sometimes small groves of trees, which stood black against the
sky.

Then the sunset's colours faded, the trees grew blacker and denser, and
their shadows ceased to fall across the darkening road.

Roger lighted the lamps, and drew out extra fur robes, for the evening
air was growing chill.

"Isn't it wonderful!" said Patty, almost in a whisper. "Motoring by
daylight is gay and festive, but now, to glide along so swiftly and
silently through the darkness, is so strange that it's almost solemn. As
it grows darker and blacker, it seems as if we were gliding away,--away
into eternity."

"For gracious' sake, child,"