She gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning it to right or left at first according to her aunt’s directions, but soon from instinctive comprehension.  It was something like guiding a gigantic bicycle; she could not yet exactly estimate the amount of turn required, but she felt that it would come to her with practice.  There was an immense exhilaration in feeling the car under her control.  For a beginner, she really kept very steadily in the middle of the road; occasionally Aunt Harriet made a snatch at the wheel, but that was seldom necessary.  They were going very slowly, only about ten miles an hour, but even that seemed a tolerable speed to a novice.  The road was curving now, and Winona must steer round a corner; it was easier than she had expected, and her instructress ejaculated “Good!” The sense of balance was beginning to come to her.  Such a tiny movement of the wheel sent the car to right or left; at first she had jerked it clumsily, now she could reckon the proportion with greater nicety.  Was that something coming in the distance?  “Sound your hooter!” shouted Aunt Harriet quickly, as a motor cycle hove in sight.  In rather a panic, Winona squeezed the india-rubber bulb, making the car lurch as she took her hand momentarily from the wheel.  “Keep well to the left!” commanded Miss Beach, and Winona, with her heart in her mouth, contrived to obey, and passed her first vehicle successfully.  She heaved a sigh of relief when it had whizzed by, and the road was once more clear.  Naturally, however, she could not expect to keep a thoroughfare all to herself.  Further on, she overtook a farmer’s cart full of little squealing pigs.  As it occupied the exact center of the road she hooted (with great confidence this time), and, when it had swung to the left, she rounded it successfully on the right.  A furniture van looked a terrible obstacle, but she passed it without assistance, and began to wax quite courageous.  Three motor cars in succession tearing along one after another, and sounding ear-splitting electric hooters, left her nerves rather rocky.  When houses and chimneys appeared in sight Miss Beach told her to stop.

“I daren’t let a learner drive through a village.  There are always too many children and dogs about the street.  Change places with me now, and you shall try again when we come to a quiet road.”

Rather thankful not to have to venture her ’prentice skill in the narrow winding street, Winona gave the wheel into her aunt’s more experienced hands.  It was only pro tem., however, for when they were once more in the open country Miss Beach continued the lesson, making her start and stop several times just for practice.

“I believe you know the routine now,” she said.  “It’s the motorist’s first catechism.  Remember those cardinal rules, and you can’t go so far wrong.”

“Do experienced people ever forget them?” asked Winona.