in blossom--well, the best
way to express my feeling is to remark that if, in June moonlight, under
a _tilleul_, a man I hated should propose to me, I'd believe for the
moment I loved him and say "Yes--yes!" But you need not be frightened;
it _isn't_ summer or moonlight, and there's no man except Brown within a
hundred miles of your silly

Molly.

MOLLY RANDOLPH TO HER FATHER

Tours, _December 3_.

Three days since I wrote, blessed old Thing, but it seems three times
three, for all the hours have been as cramfull as you used to fill my
stocking at Christmas.

We couldn't get away from Amboise, as we expected, because the tyres
didn't arrive till late in the evening. I knew it must be a long,
tedious business fixing them on, so I never dreamed of starting next
morning; but when morning came, and with it the chambermaid and my bath,
there was a note from Brown, written in a hand a lot nicer than my poor
"fist," announcing that the car was ready, and if I would like a
surprise, might he "respectfully suggest" that I should come downstairs
as soon as possible. You can imagine that I didn't "stand on the order
of my going." My hair crinkled with surprise at being done so quickly,
and I was in such a hurry that I nearly--but not quite--slid down the
balusters.

Brown was at the front door, with the car all politely polished, and
seeming to stand upon tiptoe on its big new tyres. But smart as the car
was, it was nothing to the _chauffeur_. He looked like a sort of male
Cinderella just after the fairy godmother had waved her wand; only
instead of a ball dress she had given him, in place of his black
leather, a suit of grey clothes; one of those high, turnover collars I
love on a good-looking man; a dark necktie, and what _we_ call a "Derby"
hat and the English call a "bowler." He was nice! I don't know if I'm a
judge of a man's clothes, but to me they seemed as good form as any
tailor in the world could cut. Perhaps the Honourable John gave them to
him. Poor dear! he's far too fine a fellow really to have to wear
another man's cast-off garments; but I suppose Providence must know
best, and, anyhow, I'm sure the H. J. never looked half as nice in the
things.

Brown had on also a mysterious air, which seemed to go with the clothes,
and he asked if I'd mind taking a short run with him, without knowin