all uncharitableness
in my breast, I was shaking my fist after the thing, when it stopped
politely.

There were two men in it, both in leather caps and coats--I noticed that
half unconsciously. Now one of them jumped out and came walking back to
us. Taking off his cap, he asked me with his eyes and Aunt Mary with his
voice--in English--if there was anything he could do. He was very
good-looking, and spoke nicely, like a gentleman, but he seemed so
successful that I couldn't help hating him and wishing he would go away.
The only thing I wanted was that he and the other man and their car
should be specks in the distance when Rattray came back with his
blacksmiths to push us up the hill; so I thanked him hurriedly, and said
we didn't need help. Perhaps I said it rather stiffly, I was so wild to
have him gone. He stood for a minute as if he would have liked to say
something else, but didn't know how, then bowed, and went back to his
car. In a minute it was shooting up hill again, and I never was gladder
at anything in my life than when I saw it disappear over the top--only
just in time too, for it wasn't out of sight when our three blacksmiths
had their shoulders to the task.

"_There's_ a good car, if you like, miss," said that fiend Rattray.
"It's a Napier. Some pleasure in driving _that_."

I could have boxed his ears.

Once on level ground again, the car seemed to recover a little strength.
But night fell when we were still a long way from Paris, and our poor
oil-lamps only gave light enough to make darkness visible, so that we
daren't travel at high speed. There were uncountable belt-breakings and
heart-achings before at last, after eleven at night, we crawled through
the barriers of Paris and mounted up the Avenue de la Grande Armee to
the Arc de Triomphe. We drove straight to the Elysee Palace Hotel, and
let Rattray take the brute beast to a _garage_, which I _wished_ had
been a slaughter-house.

I couldn't sleep that night for thinking that I was actually in Paris,
and for puzzling what to do next, since it was clear it would be no use
going on with the car unless some hidden ailment could be discovered and
rectified. Our plan had been to stop in Paris for a week, and then drive
on to the beautiful chateau country of the Loire that I've always
dreamed of seeing. Afterwards, I thought we might go across country to
the Riviera; but now, unless light suddenly shone out of darkness, all
that was knocked on the hea