y requisite' (isn't that the word?) in the Nice or
Monte Carlo shops, if that's your only reason for delay."

Still the lady hesitated.

"Mamma's new crown isn't painted on all her baggage yet," said Beechy,
living up, with a wicked delight, to her _role_ of _enfante terrible_.
"It's being done, but it wasn't promised till the end of the week. Say,
Sir Ralph, don't you think she's mean not to give me even so much as
_half_ a crown?"

What I really thought was, that she deserved a slap; but Terry spared
the Countess a blush and me the brain fag of a repartee conciliatory
alike to parent and child.

"I think we ought to warn you," he said, "that the car hasn't precisely
the carrying capacity of a luggage van. Perhaps when you find that
there's no room for Paris frocks and hats, you'll repent your bargain."

"Can't we take a small trunk and a satchel apiece?" asked the Countess.
"I don't see how we could do with less."

"I'm afraid you'll have to, if you go in--er--my friend's car," Terry
went on ruthlessly. "A small box between the three of you, and a
good-sized dressing-bag each, is all that the car can possibly manage,
though, of course Moray and I will reduce our luggage to the minimum
amount."

Mrs. Kidder looked grave, and at this instant, just as I felt that
Terry's future was wavering in the balance, outweighed probably by a
bonnet-box, there was a slight stir in the restaurant, behind our backs.
Involuntarily I turned my head, and saw Prince Dalmar-Kalm hurrying
towards us, his very moustache a thundercloud. He could not have
appeared at a less convenient time for us.

I was sure that he had not been consulted in regard to the automobile
trip; that perhaps even now he was in ignorance of the plan; and that,
when he came to hear of it as he must within the next five minutes, he
would certainly try (as Beechy would have put it) to snatch the American
ladies out of our mouths. It was like Terry's luck, I said to myself,
that this evil genius should arrive at the moment when Mrs. Kidder had
been mercilessly deprived of her wardrobe by a mere chauffeur. Terry had
stupidly given her an opening if she chose to take it, by suggesting
that she might "repent her bargain," and I was sure it wouldn't be
Dalmar-Kalm's fault if she didn't take it.

A second later he had reached our table, was bending low over Mrs.
Kidder's hand, smiling with engaging wickedness at Beechy, and sending a
dark look of melancholy yearnin