“How about the daughter?” asked Cora gaily.  “Of course, she would never take a notion to the same young man her father happened to favor.”

“Oh, you horrid creature!” exclaimed Bess.  “He did teach me beautifully, of course.  But a girl may look at a chauffeur, I suppose, just as a cat may gaze at a crowned monarch.”

“Oh, certainly,” conceded Cora.  “So you are really going out for a spin?  I’ll get ready and we’ll go together:  I was just wondering what I could do until dinner-time.  Jack is out with some friends, and I was just plain lonesome.”

“Put on your new costume,” directed Belle.  “We want people to look at us.  Isn’t it perfectly splendid to have a regular set of cars?”

“Yes.  We ought to get up an auto show,” agreed Cora as she hastened off to make ready for her ride.

They selected a quiet road.  In spite of the shadows of the trees it was hot.  The swift motion of the cars, however, relieved the humidity of the atmosphere in a measure.

“Which way?” asked Cora as they came to a turn.

“Down by the river,” suggested Bess.  “We haven’t been out Woodbine way all summer.  Let’s go this afternoon.”

“All right.  I guess I’ll let you set the pace,” answered Cora as she held her car back and allowed Bess to take the lead, which the fair amateur motorist did gracefully and with no little skill.

They attracted some attention as they skimmed along in their new outfits and their new cars, And with their bright faces showing their happiness.

Many stopped to look and admire and could not but smile at the evident pleasure the motor girls were having.

“`Far from the maddening crowd,’” quoted Belle as they swung down the quiet river road.  “But do be careful, Bess,” she urged.  “I know you understand as much about the car as I do, but I always feel that I ought to have a life preserver on when any mere girl—­including myself—­is at the helm of such a powerful craft.”

Bess laughed and replied lightly.  She had perfect confidence in her ability to guide the Flyaway, as they had christened the new car.

“Isn’t it close?” called Cora as she tried to steer out of the way of a stone and failed, thereby receiving quite a jolt.  “I’m afraid we’re going to have rain before we get back—­a thunder shower, likely.  It’s sultry.”

“Oh, I hope we don’t have a storm,” replied Bess.  “I’ll hate to get my new machine all splashed up with mud, to say nothing of spoiling our new auto suits.”

“Then we had better not get too far out and away from shelter,” suggested Cora.  “There!  Isn’t that thunder?”

There was a low, distant rumbling.

“That or blasting,” said Belle.

“It is thunder,” was Cora’s opinion.  “I hope we can find some shelter.”

“Shelter!” exclaimed Bess as she looked anxiously up at the gathering clouds.  “How could we ever get the cars under any ordinary shelter?