Preparations began at once. It was now the first of June and they were to start on the sixth.

There were delightful shopping excursions for the replenishing of Patty’s wardrobe, and Nan gladly assisted Patty to get everything in order for her trip.

At last the day of starting came, and a more beautiful day could not be imagined. It was typical June weather, and the sun shone pleasantly, but not too warmly, from a clear blue sky.

Patty’s only experience in motoring had been her trip to Atlantic City, but that was only a short ride compared to the contemplated tour of the Farringtons.

Mr. Farrington’s huge car seemed to be furnished with everything necessary for a long journey. Although they would usually take their meals at hotels in the towns through which they passed, Mrs. Farrington explained they might occasionally wish to have tea or even luncheon on the road, so the car was provided with both tea-basket and luncheon-kit. The novelty of this paraphernalia was fascinating to Patty, and she peeped into the well-appointed baskets with chuckles of delight at the anticipated pleasure of making use of them.

Patty’s trunk was put up on top among the others, her hand-luggage was stowed away in its place, and with affectionate good-byes to Nan and her father, she took her seat in the tonneau between Mrs. Farrington and Elise, and away they started.

Mr. Farrington and Roger, who sat in front, were in the gayest of spirits and everything was promising for a happy journey.

As they threaded their way through the crowded city streets, Patty rejoiced to think that they would soon be out in the open country where they would have wide roads with comparatively few travellers.

“What is the name of your machine, Mr. Farrington?” she asked, as they whizzed along.

“I may as well own up,” that gentleman answered, laughing. “I have named it ‘The Fact.’”

“‘The Fact,’” repeated Patty, “what a funny name. Why do you call it that? You must have some reason.”

“I have,” said Mr. Farrington, in a tone of mock despair. “I call it The Fact because it is a stubborn thing.”

Patty laughed merrily at this. “I’m afraid it’s a libel,” she said, “I’m sure I don’t see anything stubborn about the way it acts. It’s going beautifully.”

“Yes, it is,” said Mr. Farrington, “and I hope it will continue to do so, but I may as well warn you that it has a most reprehensible habit of stopping now and then, and utterly refusing to proceed. And this, without any apparent reason, except sheer stubbornness.”

“How do you finally induce it to move?” asked Patty, interested by this trait.

“We don’t induce it,” said Elise, “we just sit and wait, and when the old thing gets ready to move, it just draws a long breath and humps itself up and down a few times, and turns a couple of somersaults, and moves on.”

“What an exciting experience,” said Patty. “When do you think it will begin any such performance as that?”

“You can’t tell,” said Mr. Farrington. “It’s as uncertain as the weather.”

“More so,” said Roger. “The weather sometimes gives you warning of its intentions, but The Fact just selects a moment when you’re the farthest possible distance from civilisation or help of any kind, and then it just sits down and refuses to get up.”

“Well, we won’t cross that bridge until we come to it,” said Mr. Farrington. “Sometimes we run a week without any such mishap.”

And truly there seemed no danger at present, for the big car drove ahead as smoothly and easily as a railroad train, and Patty lay back in the luxurious tonneau, feeling that at last she could get rested and have a good time both at once.

The wonderful exhilaration of the swift motion through the soft June air, the delightful sensation of the breeze which was caused by the motion of the car, and the ever-changing natural panorama on either side of her, gave Patty the sensation of having suddenly been transported to some other country than that in which she had been living the past few weeks.

And so pleasantly friendly were her relations with Mrs. Farrington and Elise that it did not seem necessary to make remarks for the sake of keeping up the conversation. There was much pleasant chat and discussion as they passed points of interest or diverting scenes, but then again there were occasional pauses when they all gave themselves up to the enjoyment of the delightful motion of the car.

Patty began to realise what was meant by the phrase, “automobile elation.” She seemed to feel an uplifting of her spirit, and a strange thrill of exquisite happiness, while all trace of nervousness or petty worry was brushed away like a cobweb.

Her lungs seemed filled with pure air, and further, she had a whimsical sense that she was breathing the very blue of the sky.

She said this to Mrs. Farrington, and that lady smiled as she answered, “That’s right, Patty; if you feel that way, you are a true motorist. Not everyone does. There are some who only look upon a motor-car as a machine to transport them from one place to another, but to me it is the very fairyland of motion.”

Patty’s eyes shone in sympathy with this idea, but Roger turned around laughingly, and said, “You’d better be careful how you breathe the blue sky, Patty, for there’s a little cloud over there that may stick in your throat.”

Patty looked at the tiny white cloud, and responded, “If you go much faster, Roger, I’m afraid we’ll fly right up there, and run over that poor little cloud.”

“Let’s do it,” said Roger. “There’s no fine for running over a cloud, is there, Dad?”

As he spoke, Roger put on a higher speed, and then they flew so fast that Patty began to be almost frightened. But her fear did not last long, for in a moment the great car gave a kind of a groan, and then a snort, and then a wheeze, and stopped; not suddenly, but with a provokingly determined slowness, that seemed to imply no intention of moving on again. After a moment the great wheels ceased to revolve, and the car stood stubbornly still, while Mr. Farrington and Roger looked at each other, with faces of comical dismay.

“We’re in for it!” said Mr. Farrington, in a resigned tone.

“Then we must get out for it!” said Roger, as he jumped down from his seat, and opened the tool-chest.

Mrs. Farrington groaned. “Now, you see, Patty,” she said, “how the car lives up to its name. I hoped this wouldn’t happen so soon.”

“What is the matter?” asked Patty. “Why doesn’t it go?”

“Patty,” said Elise, looking at her solemnly, “I see you have yet to learn the first lesson of automobile etiquette. Never, my child, whatever happens, never inquire why a car doesn’t go! That is something that nobody ever knows, and they wouldn’t tell if they did know, and, besides, if they did know, they’d know wrong.”

Mrs. Farrington laughed at Elise’s coherent explanation, but she admitted that it was pretty nearly right, after all. Meanwhile, Mr. Farrington and Roger, with various queer-looking tools, were tinkering at the car here and there, and though they did not seem to be doing any good, yet they were evidently not discouraged, for they were whistling gaily, and now and then made jesting remarks about the hopelessness of ever moving on again.

“I think there’s water in the tubes,” said Roger, “but Dad thinks it’s a choked carburetter. So we’re going to doctor for both.”

“Very well,” said Mrs. Farrington, calmly; “as there’s no special scenery to look at about here, I think I shall take a little nap. You girls can get out and stroll around, if you like.”

Mrs. Farrington settled herself comfortably in her corner, and closed her eyes. Elise and Patty did get out, and walked up and down the road a little, and then sat down on the bank by the roadside to chat. For the twentieth time or more they talked over all the details of commencement day, and congratulated themselves anew on the success of their entertainment.

At last, after they had waited nearly two hours, Roger declared that there was no earthly reason why they shouldn’t start if they cared to.

It was part of Roger’s fun, always to pretend that he could go on at any moment if he desired to, and when kept waiting by the misconduct of the car, he always made believe that he delayed the trip solely for his own pleasure.

Likewise, if under such trying circumstances as they had just passed through, he heard other automobiles or wagons coming, he would drop his tools, lean idly against the car, with his hands in his pockets, whistling, and apparently waiting there at his own pleasure.

All this amused Patty very much, and she began, as Elise said, to learn the rules of automobile etiquette. It was not difficult with the Farringtons, for they all had a good sense of humour, and were always more inclined to laugh than cry over spilled milk.

When Roger made this announcement, Elise jumped up, and crying, “Come on, Patty,” ran back to the car and jumped in, purposely waking her mother as she did so.

Mrs. Farrington placidly took in the situation, and remarked that she was in no hurry, but if they cared to go on she was quite ready.

And so with laughter and gay chatter they started on again, and the car ran as smoothly as it had before the halt.

But it was nearly sundown, and there were many miles yet to travel before they reached the hotel where they had expected to dine and stay over night.

“Shall we go on, Mother?” said Mr. Farrington. “Can you wait until nine o’clock or thereabouts for your dinner? Or shall we stop at some farmhouse, and so keep ourselves from starvation?”

“I would rather go on,” said Mrs. Farrington, “if the girls don’t mind.”

The girls didn’t mind, and so they plunged ahead while the sun set and the darkness fell. There was no moon, and a slight cloudiness hid the stars. Roger lighted the lamps, but they cast such weird shadows that they seemed to make the darkness blacker than ever.

Patty was not exactly afraid, but the experience was so new to her that she felt she would be glad when they reached the hotel. Perhaps Mr. Farrington discerned this, for he took especial pains to entertain his young guest, and divert her mind from thoughts of possible danger. So he beguiled the way with jokes and funny stories, until Patty forgot her anxiety, and the first thing she knew they were rolling up the driveway to the hotel.

Floods of light streamed from the windows and the great doors, and strains of music could be heard from within.

“Thank goodness we’re here!” said Mrs. Farrington. “Jump out, girlies, and let us seek shelter at once.”

Roger remained in the car to take it away to the garage, and Mr. Farrington accompanied the ladies into the hotel.

Much as she had enjoyed the ride, Patty felt glad to get into the warm, lighted house, and very soon the party were shown to their rooms.

Patty and Elise shared a large room whose twin beds were covered with spreads of gaily-flowered chintz. Curtains of the same material hung at the windows, and draped the dressing-table.

“What a pleasant, homelike room,” said Patty, as she looked about.

“Yes,” said Elise, “this is a nice old country hotel. We’ve been here before. Hurry, Patty, let’s dress for dinner quickly.”

But Patty was surveying herself in the long pierglass that hung between two windows.

Nan had selected her motoring outfit, and she had donned it that morning so hastily that she hadn’t really had an opportunity to observe herself. But now, as she looked at the rather shapeless figure in the long pongee coat, and the queer shirred hood of the same material, and as she noted the voluminous chiffon veil with its funny little front window of mica, she concluded that she looked more like a goblin in a fairy play than a human being.

“Do stop admiring your new clothes, Patty, and get dressed,” said Elise, who was on her knees before an open suitcase, shaking out Patty’s skirt and bodice. “Get off those togs, and get ready to put these on. This is a sweet little Dresden silk; I didn’t know you had it. Is it new?”

“Yes,” said Patty, “Nan bought it for me. She said it wouldn’t take much room in the suitcase, and would be useful for a dinner dress.”

“It’s lovely,” said Elise. “Now get into it, and I’ll hook you up.”

So Patty got out of what she called her goblin clothes, but was still giggling at them as she hung them away in the wardrobe.

Less than half an hour later the two girls, spick and span in their dainty dresses, and with fresh white bows on their hair, went together down the staircase. They found Mr. and Mrs. Farrington awaiting them, and soon Roger appeared, and they went to the dining-room for a late dinner.

Then Patty discovered what automobile hunger was.

“I’m simply ravenous,” she declared, “but I didn’t know it until this minute.”

“That’s part of the experience,” said Mrs. Farrington, “the appetite caused by motoring is the largest known variety, and that’s why I wanted to push on here, where we could get a good dinner, instead of taking our chances at some farmhouse.”

They were the only guests in the dining-room at that late hour, and so they made a merry meal of it, and after dinner went back to the large parlours, to sit for a while listening to the music. But they did not tarry long, for as Patty discovered, another consequence of a motor ride was a strong inclination to go to bed early.