hen abruptly we flashed out
where spaces of sky and silver sea opened. Between hills that seemed to
sweep a curtsey to us, we flew down an apple-paring road toward Hyeres.

The Turnours had lunched, if not wisely, probably too well, at Valescure
about one o'clock, and it wasn't yet four; but the air at the beautiful
Costebelle hotels is said to be perpetually glittering with Royalties
and other bright beings of the great world, so her ladyship wouldn't
have been persuaded to miss the place.

Not that anyone tried to persuade her, for the two powers behind the
throne (and in front of the car) wanted to go--not to see the Royalties,
but the beauties of Costebelle itself.

We slipped gently through the town of Hyeres, whose avenues of giant
palms looked like great sea anemones turned into trees, and then spurted
up a hill into a vast and fragrant grove that smelled of a thousand
flowers. In the grove stood three hotels, with wide views over
jade-green lagoons to an indigo sea; and at the most charming of the
trio we stopped.

Nothing was said about tea for the two servants, but while the "quality"
had theirs on an exquisite terrace, the chauffeur brought a steaming cup
to me, as I sat in the car.

"This was given me for my _beaux yeux_," he said, "but I don't want any
tea, so please take it, and don't let it be wasted."

I was convinced that he had paid for that cup of tea with coin harder
if not brighter than the _beaux yeux_ in question; but it would have
hurt his feelings if I had refused, therefore I drank the tea and
thanked the giver.

"You are being very kind to me," I said, "Mr. Bane or Dane; so do you
mind telling me which it is?"

"Dane," he replied shortly. "Not that it matters. A chauffeur by any
other name would smell as much of oil and petrol. It's actually my real
name, too. Are you surprised? I was either too proud or too stubborn to
change it--I'm not sure which--when I took up 'shuvving' for a
livelihood."

"No, I'm not surprised," I said. "You don't look like the sort of man
who would change his name as if it were a coat. I've kept mine, too, to
'maid' with. You 'shuv,' I 'maid.' It sounds like an exercise in a
strange language."

"That's precisely what it is," he answered. "A difficult language to
learn at first, but I'm getting the 'hang' of it. I hope you won't need
to pursue the study very thoroughly."

"And you think you will?"

"I think so," he said, his face hardening a little, and