From the little town of Wickborough they drove along the old Roman road towards Danestone.  Part of their way lay across Wickland Heath, and here, as it was now past mid-day, Miss Beach suggested that they should stop and take their lunch.  It was a most glorious spot for a picnic.  They were at the top of a tableland, and before them spread the Common, a brown sea of last year’s heather and bilberry, with gorse bushes flaming here and there like golden fires.  A sparrow-hawk, more majestic than any aeroplane, sailed serenely overhead, and a pair of whinchats, perturbed by his vicinity, flew with a sharp twitter over the low stone wall, and sought cover among the brambles.  Beyond stretched the Roman road, broad and straight, a landmark for miles.  Cities and civilization were far away, and they were alone with the moor and the peaty little brook, and the birds and the sun and the fresh spring wind.  The joyous influence was irresistible; even Miss Beach dropped ten years’ burden of cares, and waxed almost light-hearted.  Winona had seldom seen her aunt in such a mood, and she seized the opportunity as a favorable moment to proffer a request which she had often longed, but had never hitherto dared, to make.  It was no less a suggestion than that she might be allowed to try to drive the car.  She put it in tentative fashion, fully expecting a refusal, but Aunt Harriet received the idea quite graciously.

“There’s no reason why you shouldn’t.  The road’s wide and straight, and not a vehicle in sight; you couldn’t have a better place to learn on in the whole of the kingdom.  Mind you do exactly what I tell you, that’s all!”

Winona’s face was shining.  Ever since she had first seen the pretty little two-seater it had been her secret ambition to work its steering wheel for herself.  She packed up the lunch basket in a hurry, for fear her aunt might repent.  But Miss Beach seldom went back on her word, and was quite disposed and ready to act motor instructress.  She began by explaining very carefully the various levers, and how to start.

“One golden rule,” she urged, “is to take care the lever is at neutral before you begin, or the car will jump on you.  Many motorists have had nasty accidents by omitting that most necessary precaution.  Next you must see that the ignition is pushed back, or you’ll get a back-fire in starting, and break your wrist.  It must be just at this notch—­do you see?  Now you may swing round the handle.”

The engine began to work, and Winona took her place in the driver’s seat.  Miss Beach, sitting by her side, showed her how to put the low gear in, then to put in the clutch.  The car started off under Winona’s guidance.