Cynthia's expression was hard to read; she seemed to be rushing on with the car, watching the face beside Buntingford, the young hands on the wheel, the keen eyes looking ahead, the play of talk between them.
"What a splendid creature!" said Lady Maud half-unwillingly, as she and Cynthia walked back to the lawn.

"I'm afraid I don't at all approve of her in ordinary life.

But just now--she was in her element." "Mother, you must let me learn motoring!" cried the girl of seventeen, hanging on her mother's arm.

She was flushed with innocent envy.

Helena driving Lord Buntingford seemed to her at the top of creation.
"Goose! It wouldn't suit you at all," said the mother, smiling.