I
said, "that, like us, you're making a tour around Europe on it?"

I thought his face changed a little, though I don't know why it should.
"Oh," said he, "I've lent it to my friend Lord Lane; charming fellow I
met last year in Paris. He'll meet me with it a little later. Where are
_you_ going after this?"

"We're working slowly on to the Riviera," said I.

"Oh, isn't that funny," said Jimmy, "that's where Lord Lane and I are
going to meet! At Cannes, or Nice, or Monte Carlo; it isn't quite
settled yet which. I suppose you're going to all of them, as you're
driving about on a car?"

I said that we expected to, and pointed through the glass door at my
automobile, with Brown superintending the hotel servants who were
lifting down the luggage. He looked hard at the car and the _chauffeur_,
as if he envied me both, and I think he had something more to say which
he considered important, but I was in a hurry to change and make myself
prettier--_much_ prettier--than the Garrison girls.

By the way, they--the Garrisons--suggested that we should sit at a small
table with them, where they've already given a place to Jimmy. We
accepted the invitation, and now we've just dined together. My frock was
a dream; it's always nice to come to the sort of hotel where one can
wear something pretty, as here and at Biarritz. Afterwards we all put on
coats and cloaks and strolled in the moonlight on the terrace. Jimmy
tried to call up from the "vasty deep" of his broken (?) heart the
spirit of the Past, with a capital P, but I would force him into the
track of automobilism instead. I don't believe he knows a bit more than
I do about it, if as much, now that I've learned such a lot from the
Lightning Conductor, and if he takes to boasting I'll just _show_ him.

Now, good-night, my dear old Dad. I shall treat myself to a "night-cap"
draught of mountain air before I go to bed on my balcony facing the
Pyrenees.

Your
Molly-who-loves-only-you.

FROM JACK WINSTON TO LORD LANE

Pau, _December 15_.

Dear Safety Valve,

After the recent budget from Biarritz I had no intention of inflicting
another upon you--at least, until we should reach Nice. But--there's as
much virtue in "but" as in "if"--you will be thinking in Davos that it
never rains but it pours letters; I am thinking in Pau that it never