ped chauffeur rasped, addressing
the frump, "I'll just show you!"

He turned about and jerked his head.

"Oh, Dicky! Here, just a minute, old chap--will you?"

Of course I took no notice of him whatever. In fact I looked in the
other direction.

"Lightnut!" he called. I just stared up at the castle on the hill. I
felt devilish annoyed, though. I recalled a conversation the other day
at the club in which Van Dyne remarked that the intimacy affected now by
chauffeurs was growing insufferable. Declared his man had asked him for
a light that morning.

The fellow stared a little; then he came toward me, smirking in a
jocular, impertinent way.

"Say, stop your kidding, old man," he muttered; "girls have no sense of
humor, you know. Come along--I've just been telling them you are my best
friend."

I stole another look at the car, but Frances avoided me; so I came to a
decision. I turned shortly on the driver.

"See here now, my good fellow," I said sharply, "you stop subjecting
those ladies to annoyance. Drive on, or I'll report you to my friends."

He stared--seemed to be trying to stare me out of countenance, in fact.
Then the grin slowly faded.

"Why, Dicky!" he exclaimed in an aggrieved tone, "don't you remember
me--don't you know me?"

"I certainly do not," I answered with decision. I felt my face getting
red with vexation. "And what's more, my name is not 'Dicky.'"

His hand slowly swept his chin and he whistled.

"Wha--Well, I'll be jiggered!" He whirled toward the car.

"On me, this time, I guess! You're right!"

Then his face clouded and he moved down upon me.

"Here, you get along now about your business, whoever you are!" His hand
waved as though sweeping me away. "I've a mind to kick you for annoying
that young lady."

He looked toward Frances and I could see he was showing off. But I
thought she looked a bit disgusted. As for the frump, she suddenly
opened the door, stepped down and then up again, but this time behind
the steering wheel.

"If you don't come on, I'm going," she said quietly.

"Just a minute," he said, scowling back at her. He faced me.

"Look here, if I hit you once"--he leveled his finger--"well, they'll
have to pick you up with a sponge, that's all!"

But, except for fixing my glass for a better study of Frances, I never
moved. Didn't occur to me as necessary, you know, until she should drive
off. Just stood leaning on my cane and with feet crossed, you know, in
the wa