Mrs. Grace Kimball was a wealthy widow, a member of one of the oldest and best known families in Chelton, which was a New England town, not far from the New York boundary.  Her husband had been Joseph Kimball, a man of simple tastes and sterling principles.  When he had to leave her, with the two children, he said as he was passing away: 

“Grace, I know you will bring them up rightly—­plainly and honestly.”

Plain in character, upright and fair, the two children had grown, but, in personality, nothing could make either Jack or Cora Kimball “plain.”  They were just simply splendid.

“Then I can’t take out the machine to-night, mother dear?” asked Cora after dinner.

“Not to-night, daughter.  I know you can run a car, but this is a new one, and I would feel better to have you give it a test run in daylight.  You must get the man at the garage to show you all about it.  Do you like it very much, Cora?”

“Like it!  Oh, mother, I perfectly love it!  I can scarcely believe it is all mine—­that Jack has no mortgage on it and that it’s my very own.”

“I don’t know about that,” put in Jack.  “A fine car like that is rather a dangerous thing for a handsome young lady of seventeen summers, and some incidental winters, to go sporting about in.  Some one else may get a mortgage on it, and want to foreclose.”

“Now, I don’t tease you, Jack,” objected his, sister, “and a girl has just as much right to tease a boy as a boy has to tease a girl.”

“Goodness me!  You don’t call that teasing, do you?  The girls have all the rights now.  But help yourself!  I’m not particular.  Did you say I was to call at the Robinsons’ at nine?”

“No, nine-thirty.”

“Oh, exactly.  Well, I’ll try to be there.  You might make it a point not to be waiting on the drive for me.  A fellow wants to get a look at a girl like Bess once in a while—­just for practice, you know.”

“Oh, Jack!”

“Oh, Cora!  What’s the matter?”

“You’re horrid!”

“All right.  Then I’m going off and read a horrible tale about pirates, and walking the plank, and all that.  I’ll be on hand at the time and place mentioned.  Hoping this will find you well, remain, yours very truly, Jack.”  And he hurried out of the room amid the laughter of his mother and sister.

“What a boy!” exclaimed Mrs. Kimball.

It was a pleasant, summer evening, and when Cora hurried down the avenue toward the Robinson home, she actually seemed to have wings.  For she was not running, and her pace could hardly be called walking.

Her tall, straight figure was clad in a simple linen gown.  She had need to disregard frills now, for she was a motor girl.

“Oh, come on, and don’t ask a single question!” she exclaimed as the Robinson twins—­Bess and Belle—­hastened to meet her in response to her ring.  “Come on!  We must go over to the garage, quick!  I’ve got a new machine, and I’ve got to learn all about it.”