motion.

"Surely," he said, "your unknown intended must be some charming leader in
the social activities of the great metropolis."

"Who knows! She may be m-my own l-laundress for all I know. She may be
anything, Yates! She--she might even be b-black!"

"Black!"

Mr. Carr nodded, shuddered, dashed the unmanly moisture from his
eyeglass.

"I think I'd better go to town and tell my son-in-law, William Destyn,
exactly what has happened to me," he said. "And I think I'll go through
the kitchen garden and take my power boat so that those devilish
reporters can't follow me. Ferdinand!" to the man at the door, "ring up
the garage and order the blue motor, and tell those newspaper men I'm
going to town. That, I think, will glue them to the lawn for a while."

"About--Drusilla, sir?" ventured Yates; but Mr. Carr was already gone,
speeding noiselessly out the back way, through the kitchen garden, and
across the great tree-shaded lawn which led down to the boat landing.

Across the distant hedge, from the beautiful grounds of his next-door
neighbor, floated sounds of mirth and music. Gay flags fluttered among
the trees. The Magnelius Grandcourts were evidently preparing for the
brilliant charity bazaar to be held there that afternoon and evening.

"To think," muttered Carr, "that only an hour ago I was agreeably and
comfortably prepared to pass the entire afternoon there with my
daughters, amid innocent revelry. And now I'm in flight--pursued by
furies of my own invoking--threatened with love in its most hideous form--
matrimony! Any woman I now look upon may be my intended bride for all I
know," he continued, turning into the semiprivate driveway, bordered
heavily by lilacs; "and the curious thing about it is that I really don't
care; in fact, the excitement is mildly pleasing."

He halted; in the driveway, blocking it, stood a red motor car--a little
runabout affair; and at the steering-wheel sat a woman--a lady's maid by
her cap and narrow apron, and an exceedingly pretty one, at that.

When she saw Mr. Carr she looked up, showing an edge of white teeth in
the most unembarrassed of smiles. She certainly was an unusually
agreeable-looking girl.

"Has something gone wrong with your motor?" inquired Mr. Carr,
pleasantly.

"I am afraid so." She didn't say "sir"; probably because she was too
pretty to bother about such incidentals. And she looked at Carr and
smiled, as though he were particularly ornamental.

"Let me