, out of politeness, for I believe he's a
good driver, and he might be hurt if we didn't; though I'm _sure_ he
drives no better than you."

By this time I knew what was coming, and steeled myself to bear it, but
there might have been a certain involuntary elongation of countenance,
for the poor child rushed into explanations to save my battered
feelings. "You see," she went on, "this gentleman, Mr. Payne, is a very
old friend of the family, and he has been travelling in Europe a long
time, for a rest. He overworked himself or something, and broke down.
Now, he has lent his car to an English friend of his, Lord Lane, whom he
arranged to rejoin on the Riviera. But he doesn't feel well, and railway
travelling disagrees with him. His doctor here has just told him that he
must be continually in the open air if he doesn't want to have a
relapse; and Miss Kedison thinks my father would be annoyed if we didn't
ask him to drive with us, as we are going the way he must go. The Napier
is such a fine car, I suppose it can take four as well as three, and a
little more luggage?"

"Oh yes, miss, there'll be no difficulty about that," I answered
grudgingly.

"And you won't feel that it is lack of trust in you, if he drives part
of the time?"

At this Aunt Mary glared, but that Angel paid not the slightest
attention.

There is an unwritten law that a man shall not be a brute; and after her
sweet consideration of my chauffery feelings I couldn't show myself
ungracious. I assured her that I should not feel hurt, and that she was
very kind to think of me at all. I would do my best for the party,
unless, of course, my services would be superfluous, now that she was to
be accompanied by a friend who was a competent driver.

I wonder what I _should_ have done in the unlikely event that she took
me at my word? Picture my feelings, bereft of my Goddess, bereft of my
Napier at one and the same time, constrained to resignation, while a
confounded impostor drove off with both from under my very nose! Miss
Randolph hastened to deny any such thought, and to impress upon me my
value as a _chauffeur_. But things are bad enough as they are.

Here I am saddled with a fellow who hates me as a cur hates a man who
has thrashed him, and will snap if he dares. Instead of turning my back
upon him, I have to carry him away on it; and if a rod isn't in pickle
for me, I'm not

Your old friend,