Jack had offered to go with his sister when she announced that she
was about to take a run in her car, but, with a little nod of
thanks, she declined his company.

"It's a beautiful morning," she said, "and I want to take a good,
long ride by myself, Jack. I want to--think. I feel that the air
will do me more good than anything else."

Her mother had gone into town, and once his offer was refused, Jack
took a book and declared that he was going to try to work off some
of his college conditions. The Robinson girls were at their music
lessons, Cora knew, so he would not call for them. Thus she started
off alone.

Down the turnpike she steered the big machine, confident in her
ability to manage it. There were few autos out, and the highway was
almost deserted. Her pretty Shaker hood, which had lately come home
from Madam Julia's, was unbound, and the loose, chiffon strings flew
out in the wind like long-legged birds. Turning into a broad avenue,
Cora realized that she was on the road leading to the garage where
she had met Paul Hastings, the handsome chauffeur who had given her
such valuable information about her car.

"I must see about getting the mud guard fixed," she reflected, for
the temporary brace that Ed had made, though it had kept the affair
in place until the day previous had now come loose. "And this is a
good time to have it attended to," thought the girl.

Paul Hastings was in the little front office. He smiled pleasantly
at the flushed girl as she told her needs, but somehow he seemed