nt you to pay," said I. "I only want you to go away."

I've a dim impression that I emphasised these words with a gesture, and
that he seized my hand before I could pull it back. I also have a dim
impression of exclaiming, "Oh, Brown!" in a frightened voice--just as
silly as if I'd been an early-Victorian female. I wished I hadn't, but
it was too late. Brown, evoked, was not so easily revoked. A whirlwind
seemed to catch Monsieur Talleyrand up, but it was really Brown. They
went together to visit a disagreeable, shiny green pond in the middle
of the farmyard. Brown stopped at the brink; but Monsieur Talleyrand
didn't stop--I suspect Brown knew why. He went on, and in. And, oh, Dad!
to save my life, I couldn't help laughing. All my excitement and
everything went into that laugh--the half-crying kind I used to call the
"boo-higgles" when I was a little girl--you remember?

I was afraid the wretch might hear me, so I turned and fairly ran for
the house. Brown took some long steps, and reached me before I got
there, apparently not the least concerned in the splashing sounds which
so much interested everybody else.

"About my master's car, miss," said he coolly. "Will you have it? He was
at Amboise. I'd heard from him there, that if I knew of anyone wanting
to hire a car, his was in the market for the next few weeks, as he was
suddenly called away, and didn't want to take it. It's a good car--the
best I ever drove--and he's willing to let it go cheap, as he trusts me
to drive, and it's an accommodation to him."

"Oh, I'm delighted to have it," I answered, not stopping to ask the
price, because details didn't seem to matter at that moment. "It's--it's
just like the ram caught in the bushes, isn't it? And--I don't know how
to thank you enough for everything." I can't tell exactly what I meant
by that, except that I meant a lot.

"There's nothing to thank me for, miss," said Brown, quite respectful
again; but a queer little smile lurked in the corners of his mouth. "You
must be hungry," he remarked. "Shall I ask them to have breakfast
prepared by the time you're--ready?"

I believe he was going to say "dressed," and stopped for fear of hurting
my feelings. I only stayed long enough to throw a "Yes, please," over my
shoulder. But when I was upstairs with Aunt Mary, my face feeling rather
hot, I didn't begin to make my toilet; I went and "peeked" out of the
window.

That unspeakable Frenchman was shaking himself like a big