ly wished to prosecute my search for the Sealyham without
delay. I had had less than four hours' sleep, and was feeling rotten.

In a smart white coat and skirt and a white felt hat over one eye,
Susan looked most attractive. Her fresh, pretty face was glowing, her
wonderful golden hair was full of lights, and the line of her slim
figure, as--hands thrust deep into her coat-pockets--she leaned her
small back against the balustrade, was more than dainty. Her little
feet and ankles were those of a thoroughbred.

As I descended from the car--

"I say," said Susan, "I've got a stone in my shoe. Where can I get it
out?"

I eyed her severely.

"You will have a lot to tell them," I said, "won't you? Go on. Get
into the car."

She climbed in, sat down and leaned back luxuriously. Then she thrust
out a foot with the air of a queen....

When I had replaced her shoe, she thanked me with a shy smile. Then--

"I say," she said suddenly, "don't let's go to the Chateau. I don't
want to see the rotten place. Let's go for a drive instead--somewhere
where you can let her out. And on the way back you can take me to get
some gloves."

"Susan," said I, "there's nothing doing. I know a drive in a
high-powered car sounds a good deal more _chic_ than being shown round
a Chateau, but you can't have everything. Orders is orders. Besides,
I've lost my dog, and I want to get a move on. But for that, you
should have done the Chateau and had your drive into the bargain. As
it is...."

Susan is a good girl.

The moment she heard of my trouble, she was out of the car and haling
me up to the Chateau as if there was a mob at our heels....

I was not in the mood for sightseeing, but my annoyance went down
before the tapestries as wheat before the storm.

Standing before those aged exquisites--those glorious embodiments of
patience infinite, imagination high, and matchless craftsmanship, I
forgot everything. The style of them was superb. They had quality.
About them was nothing mean. They were so rich, so mellow, so
delicate. There was a softness to the lovely tones no brush could ever
compass. Miracles of detail, marvels of stately effect, the panels
were breathing the spirit of their age. Looking upon them, I stepped
into another world. I heard the shouts of the huntsmen and the
laughter of the handmaidens, I smelled the sweat of the chargers and
the sweet scent of the grapes, I felt the cool touch of the shade up