actically impassable for
automobiles. From Versailles there is a good route by Dourdan and
Angerville, which, if not picturesque, at least passes through
agreeable, richly cultivated country. The road is exceedingly
_accidentee_ on leaving Versailles, and I drove with great care down the
dangerous descent to Chateaufort, and also down the hill at St. Remy,
which leads to the valley of the Yvette. Till beyond Dourdan the road is
one long switchback, and it is but fair to record that the solid German
car climbed the hills with a kind of lumbering sturdiness much to its
credit. At Dourdan we lunched, and soon after entered on the long, level
road to Orleans. The car travelled well--for it, and the day's record of
sixty-seven miles was only three breakages of belts. To my relief and
surprise we actually got to Orleans in time for dinner. I was a proud
man when I drove my employers into the old-fashioned courtyard of the
d'Orleans. Almond, I knew, was at the St. Aignan with the Napier, and
there I presently joined him, to hear that he had done the total run
from Versailles, with an hour's stop for lunch, in under the four hours,
the car running splendidly all the way. Almond does not at all
understand why he is left alone, and why I have gone off to drive two
ladies in an out-of-date German car which any self-respecting
automobilist would be ashamed to be seen on in France. He looks at me
queerly, and would like to ask questions; but being a good servant as
well as a good mechanic, he doesn't, and kindly puts up with his
master's whims.

My orders were to be ready for the ladies at ten the next morning, and
when punctually to the moment I drove the car into the courtyard, I
found them waiting for me. Miss Randolph volunteered the news that she
and her aunt had been round the town in a cab to see the sites connected
with the Maid, but that she had found it very difficult to picture
things as they were, so modernised is the town.

The morning we left Orleans was exquisite. The car went well; the
magnificent Loire was brimming from bank to bank, and not meandering
among disfiguring sand-banks, as it does later in the year; the wide,
green landscape shone through a glitter of sunshine; and here and there
in the blue sky floated a mass of tumbled white cloud. Our little party
at first was silent. I think the beauty of the scene influenced us all,
even Aunt Mary; and the thrumming of the motor formed a monotonous
undercurrent to