of luggage to know its place on the roof
it was shaped to fit.

"Thank goodness, at least he's not fat, and won't take up much room," I
thought, as I stood looking at the back of his black head.

Then he jumped down, and turned round. We gave each other a glance, and
he could not help knowing that I must be her ladyship's maid, by the way
I was loaded with rugs, like a beast of burden. Of my face he could see
little, as I had on a thick motor-veil with a small triangular talc
window, which Lady Kilmarny had given me as a present when I bade her
good-bye. I had the advantage of him, therefore, in the staring contest,
because his goggles were pushed up on the top of his cap with an
elastic, somewhat as Miss Paget's spectacles had been caught in her
false front.

His glance said: "Female thing, I've got to be bothered by having you
squashed into the seat beside me. You'd better not be chatty with the
man at the wheel, for if you are, I shall have to teach you motor
manners."

My glance, I sincerely hoped, said nothing, for I hurriedly shut it off
lest it should say too much, the astonished thought in my mind being:
"Why, Leather Person, you look exactly like a gentleman! You have the
air of being the master, and Sir Samuel your servant."

He really was a surprise, especially after Lady Kilmarny's warning.
Still, I at once began to tell myself that chauffeurs _must_ have
intelligent faces. As for this one's clear features, good gray eyes,
brown skin, and well-made figure, they were nothing miraculous, since it
is admitted that even a lower grade of beings, grooms and footmen, are
generally chosen as ornaments to the establishments they adorn. Why
shouldn't a chauffeur be picked out from among his fellows to do credit
to a fine, sixty-horse-power blue motor-car? Besides, a young man who
can't look rather handsome in a chauffeur's cap and neat leather coat
and leggings might as well go and hang himself.

The Leather Person opened the door of the car for me, that I might put
in the rugs. I murmured "thank you" and he bowed. No sooner had I
arranged my affairs, and slipped the scent-bottle and bottle of salts,
newly filled, into a dainty little case under the window, when Lady
Turnour and Sir Samuel appeared.

I have met few, if any, queens in daily life, but I'm almost sure that
the Queen of England, for instance, wouldn't consider it beneath her
dignity to take some notice of her chauffeur's existence if she were
sta