nterprise. After all, it
was somewhat of an undertaking for an unworldly woman to go out alone
into the world and buy a motor-car and engage a chauffeur, not to
mention clothing the chauffeur. But Mr. Prohack kept all his
imperturbability.

"Isn't it lovely?"

"Is it paid for?"

"Oh, no!"

"Didn't you have to pay any deposit?"

"Of course I didn't. I gave your name, and that was sufficient. We
needn't keep it if we don't like it after the trial run."

"And is it insured?"

"Of course, darling."

"And what about the licence?"

"Oh! The Eagle Company saw to all those stupid things for me."

"And how many times have you forged my signature while I've been lying
on a bed of pain?"

"The fact is, darling, I made the purchase in my own name. Now come
_along_. We're going round the park."

The way she patted his overcoat when she had got it on to him...! The
way she took him by the hand and pulled him towards the drawing-room
door...! She had done an exceedingly audacious deed, and her spirits
rose as she became convinced from his demeanour that she had not pushed
audacity too far. (For she was never absolutely sure of him.)

"Wait one moment," said Mr. Prohack releasing himself and slipping back
to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"I merely desired to look at the chauffeur's face. Is it a real
chauffeur? Not an automaton?"

"Arthur!"

"You're sure he's quite human?" Mrs. Prohack closed the piano, and then
stamped her foot.

"Listen," said Mr. Prohack. "I'm about to trust my life to the
mysterious being inside that uniform. Did you imagine that I would trust
my life to a perfect stranger? In another half hour he and I may be
lying in hospital side by side. And I don't even know his name! Fetch
him in, my dove, and allow me to establish relations with him. But
confide to me his name first." The expression on Mrs. Prohack's features
was one of sublime forbearance under ineffable provocation.

"This is Carthew," she announced, bringing the chauffeur into the
drawing-room.

Carthew was a fairly tall, fairly full-bodied, grizzled man of about
forty; he carried his cap and one gauntleted glove in one gloved hand,
and his long, stiff green overcoat slanted down from his neck to his
knees in an unbroken line. He had the impassivity of a policeman.

"Good morning, Carthew," Mr. Prohack began, rising. "I thought that you
and I would like to make one another's acquaintance."

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Prohack h