delicate green meadows sparkling with a thick gold-dust
of dandelions, was for me like going out to be tried for my life in a
frock made by a fairy.

I hardly breathed until the corkscrew uncurled itself at last and turned
into an ordinary downhill road. Our car slackened speed, and finally, as
we came upon the first long, level stretch, to my astonishment moved
slower and more slowly until it stopped dead.

XI

A CHAPTER OF BRAKES AND WORMS

Mamma laughed one of those coquettish, twenty-five-year-old laughs that
go with her auburn hair and her crowns.

"Well, have you decided to give us a chance to breathe, after all?" she
asked. "I should say it was about time."

"I'm afraid you'll breathe maledictions when you hear what is the
matter," said our Chauffeulier.

"Good gracious! what's happened?" exclaimed Mamma. "If the thing's going
to explode, do let us get out and run."

"So far from exploding, she's likely to be silent for some time," Mr.
Barrymore went on, jumping down and going to the automobile's head. "I'm
awfully sorry. After the delays we've suffered, you won't think motoring
is all it's painted, when I tell you that we're in for another."

"Why, what is it this time?" Mamma asked.

"I'm not quite sure yet," said Mr. Barrymore, "but the chains are wrong
for one thing, and I'm inclined to think there's some deep-seated
trouble. I shall soon find out, but whatever it is, I hope you won't
blame the car too much. She's a trump, really; but she had a big strain
put upon her endurance yesterday and this morning. Dragging another car
twice her size for thirty miles or more up a mountain pass isn't a joke
for a twelve horse-power car."

Any one would think the automobile was his instead of Sir Ralph's by the
pride he takes in it. Sir Ralph doesn't seem to care half as much; but
then I don't believe he's a born sports-man like his friend. You can be
a motor-car owner if you've got money enough; but I guess you have to be
_born_ a motor-car man.

"Well, this isn't exactly an ideal place for an accident," remarked
Mamma, "as it seems to be miles from anywhere; but we ought to be
thankful to Providence for not letting the break come up there on that
awful mountain."

I saw a faint twinkle in Mr. Barrymore's eyes and a twitch of his lips,
as he bent down over the machinery without answering a word, and I
couldn't resist the temptation of letting him see that I was in his
secret. There couldn't be a