s.

SHE had her veil up, and, by Jove! she was good to look upon! The eyes
were deep and candid; the curve of the red lips (a little subdued now)
suggested a delightful sense of humour; her brown hair rippled over the
ears and escaped in curly tendrils on her white neck. The girl was
delicately balanced, finely wrought, tempered like a sword-blade.
Something in my inner workings seemed to cry out with pleasure at her
perfections; a very unusual nervousness got hold of me when I spoke to
her.

It ended in my flying off to the Avenue de la Grande Armee to search for
the missing man and another crank. You remember my earliest automobile
experiences were with a Benz, as so many people's have been, and I knew
where to go. Nothing had been heard of the man; I bribed a fellow to
take a crank out of another car, and on the way back a wild idea
occurred to me. I was obliged to sketch it to the astonished Almond,
commanded him to deadly secrecy, then offered my own services to the
beautiful American girl in place of her former _chauffeur_, absconded.
The whole thing came into my mind in a flash as I was spinning through
the Bois, and I hadn't time to think of the difficulties in which I
might get landed. I only felt that this was the prettiest girl I had
ever seen, and determined at any price to see a good deal more of her.
Only one way of doing that occurred to me. I couldn't say to her, "I am
Mr. John Winston, a perfectly respectable person. I have been seized
with a strong and sudden admiration for your beauty. Will you let me go
with you on your trip through France?" Even an American girl would have
been staggered at that. The situation called for an immediate
decision--either I was to lose the girl, or resort to a trick. You quite
see how it was, don't you?

In the first instant there came a complication. I had stopped my car a
minute in the Bois to scribble a character for my new self--James Brown,
from my old self--John Winston; but as soon as I presented this piece of
writing to back up my application for the place, Miss Molly Randolph (I
may as well give you her name) exclaimed that she knew my mother. Such
is life! It seems they met in Paris. But the die was cast, and she
engaged me. I trusted the Napier to Almond, giving him general
instructions to keep as near to us as he could, without letting himself
be seen, and for the last two days I have been _chauffeur_,
_mecanicien_, call it what you will, to the most charm