Eleanor said nothing, and Douglas was equally silent. They had the narrow road to themselves, and he increased the speed. The wheels raced like velvet on the finished macadam. On they sped. Soon Eleanor caught a glimpse of the Potomac below them, and the bright sunlight sparkled on the water and on the green foliage of the wooded banks of the Maryland and Virginia shores. They passed the Three Sisters, then the reservoirs, and Douglas saw a straight stretch of road ahead and no vehicle in sight. The next moment the powerful machine, gathering speed, shot down the road, which seemed a narrowing white strip as the revolving wheels devoured the distance. Douglas turned his eyes a moment from the flying landscape to Eleanor, who sat, tense, fearless, her pulses leaping as the rushing wind stung her cheeks. She caught his look. "Faster, faster," she called. And obediently Douglas threw wide open the throttle. On, on they flew. A wild exhilaration engulfed Eleanor; her spirit seemed to soar, detached from things earthly. She cast a glance of resentment at Douglas who, seeing the road curved in the distance, slackened speed. By the time the big car reached the turning, he had brought it to a standstill near the side of the road. Eleanor drew a long breath. "Oh, why did you stop?" Her eyes shone like stars. "It was glorious." "I stopped"--Douglas turned squarely in his seat, and faced Eleanor--"because I want to ask you to confide in me." "To do _what_?" Eleanor's deep blue eyes opened to their widest extent. "To tell me"--Douglas hesitated over his choice of words--"your mission in life." Eye to eye they gazed at each other. Eleanor was the first to speak. "I am at a loss to understand your singular request," she said, freezingly. "Miss Thornton, do me the justice to think that I am not asking from idle curiosity--it is because I have your welfare so deeply at heart." "If I did not know you to be a sane person, I would think you had suddenly lost your mind. As you take the matter so seriously, I must repeat that I am _concerned in nothing_." Douglas held her gaze, as if in the limpid depths of her blue eyes he would fathom the secret of her soul. Eleanor's breath came and went, she colored painfully, but her eyes never dropped before his. Nearer he bent and nearer. The virile strength of the man drew her, and his arms closed about her slender waist. "Eleanor, I love you." The very repression of his tone added to its intensity. Fearlessly she raised her lips to his--in surrender. Some time later Douglas backed the car a yard or two, then turned it toward Washington, but their return trip was made with due attention to the speed law. "Will you please tell me--Douglas"--she hesitated adorably over his name--"Indeed, you must not kiss me again"--drawing back as far as the seat would permit. "Why did you avoid me in Paris?" A shadow passed over Douglas' radiant face, and was gone before Eleanor observed it.