"No; I liked it," she answered. "I liked it--too well. Do you know? I never dare to run a car by myself--very much. I learned how, and had a little runabout of my own at college, and I run one now sometimes. But it came over me one day--the power there was under my fingers. Almost involuntarily I began to let it out. I went faster and faster--and yet I did not go half fast enough. Something seemed to be pushing me on, urging me to even greater and greater speed. I wanted to get away, away----! Then I came to myself. I was miles from where I should have been, and in a locality I knew nothing about. I had no little difficulty in getting back to where I belonged, besides having a fine or two to pay, I believe. I was frightened and ashamed, for everywhere I heard of stories of terrified men, women, children, and animals, and of how I had narrowly escaped having death itself to answer for as a result of my mad race through the country. And yet--even now--to-day, I felt that wild exhilaration of motion. I did not want to stop. I wanted to go on and on----" She paused suddenly, and fell back in her seat. "You see," she laughed with a complete change of manner, "I am not to be trusted as a chauffeur." "I see," nodded Brandon, a little soberly; then, with a whimsical smile: "Perhaps I should want the brakes shifted to my side of the car--if I rode with you!... But, after all, when you come right down to the solid comfort of motoring, you can take it best by jogging along like this at a good sensible rate of speed that will let you see something of the country you are passing through. Look at those clouds. We shall have a gorgeous sunset to-night." It was almost an hour later that Brandon stopped his car where two roads crossed, and looked behind him. "By George, where are those people?" he queried. "But we started first, and we came rapidly for a time," reminded the girl. "I know, but we've been simply creeping for the last mile or two," returned the man. "I slowed up purposely to fall in behind the rest. I'm not so sure I know the way from here--but perhaps you do." And he turned his eyes questioningly to hers. "Not I," she laughed. "But I thought you did." "So did I," he grumbled. "I've been over this road enough in times past. Oh, I can get back to Hilcrest all right," he added reassuringly. "It's only that I don't remember which is the best way. One road takes us through the town and is not so pleasant. I wanted to avoid that if possible." "Never mind; let's go on," proposed the girl. "It's getting late, and we might miss them even if we waited. They may have taken another road farther back. If they thought you knew the way they wouldn't feel in duty bound to keep track of us, and they may have already reached home. I don't mind a bit which road we take." "All right," acquiesced Brandon. "Just as you say. I think this is the one. Anyhow, we'll try it." And he turned his car to the left.