My Friend the Chauffeur

any picturesque centres in Europe which they may desire to visit. Car has capacity for carrying small luggage, and is of best type. Journeys of about 100 miles a day. Novel and delightful w

eeded a little leading up to; and by way of getting him quickly and safely on to a side rack I burst into a shout of laughter, s

e matter?"

ck me so forcibly," said I

enough to advertise himself like that in earnest. Probably the

world, as well as one of the best looking, but like several other Irishmen he is, to put it mildly, rather hard to manage, especially when you want to do him a good turn. I had been trying to do him one without

t the pink paper where Terry would be sure to pick it up. "And I don't see why you sh

, and I have

st living, and at the same time having some rattling good fun, rather than sell the thing for less than half c

uproariously, as I had. "One would think the ass was a frie

most clearly," I persisted mildly. "But, as a matter of fact, the

rs, you old owl," remarked Terry. "I must say in your defence, though, it i

em as attractively as you can to appeal to the public," I argued. "This is the same thing. Besides, my friend isn'

of twenty-nine) was, I flatter myself, as innocent as that of a choir-boy who has just delivered himsel

me your friend's name

he end of the advertiseme

magnolia tree, gazed at him from under my tilted Panama. Terry is tall and dark. Stretched out in the basket chair, he looked very big and rather formidable. Beside him, I felt a small and reedy pe

Z., Chalet des Pins, Cap Martin." Then he said something which did not go at all with the weather. Why is it that

e explosion, "I must say I don't like your

hen your brother behaved like such a-well, we won't specify what-you asked, I might even say begged, for my advice,

id;

ed no very keen interest in your career, you decided that you couldn't afford to stop in the Guards, so you cut the Army. This year I advised you not to play that system of yours an

ough what they were. Ruin. And it doesn't gild th

e without a groan. I said I'd try and think of a better plan than selling your Panhard, and going out to help work an African farm on

t off big w

I'm one still, and have saved up quite a little competency on big words and potted phrases. I've collected a gre

suppose that I'd be found dead carting a lot of American or other women w

m," I had begun, when there was a ring at the gate bell, and the high wall

were not accustomed to afternoon calls or any other time-of-day calls from chiffon and muslin at the Chalet des Pins, therefore our first impression was that the tidal wave had overflowed t

parent parasols, which you felt you ought to see through, and couldn't. Before it was upon us, Terry

asol, which hid all details, except a general white muslin filminess. But Terry and I had not much chance t

like a stage curtain. The green wave was a lady; a marvellous lady. The pink wave was

dle of her forehead, between two beautifully arched black eyebrows. Her skin was very white, her cheeks were very pink, and her lips were very coralline. Everything about her was "very." Out of a plump face, with a small nose that turned up and a chin which was over-round, looked a pair of big, good-natured, nondescript-coloured eyes, and flash

lecting my forces for a reply when the little brown girl giggled, and I lost myself again. It was only for an i

the wretched fellow glibly. "His are the car and the title men

t to add ten per cent to my bills at hotels. Now, before I could speak a word of contradiction, Terry went on. "I am only Mr. Barrymore," sai

. Barrymore who drives my car for me," I explained. "He's cle

t Terry to sink too low in these possible clients' estimation, for my canny Scotch mind was working round the fact that they were probably American heiresses, and an heiress of some sort was a necessity for the younger brother of that meanest of bachelor peers, the Marquis of Innisfallen.

the third member of the party (the one who had lagged behind, stopping to examine

his sentence, and I forgot to

the little garden of the Chalet des Pins, with its high wall d

f the Trees about the girl's bearing and the pose of the white throat; but the face was almost childlike in the candour and virginal innocence of its large brown eyes. The pure forehead had a halo of yellow-brown hair, burnished gold where the sun touched it; the lips were red, with an adorable droop i

ers to gaze at a rose-bush, by way of a protest against the whole expedition. What she saw to disapprove of in me I was at a loss to guess, but that she did disapprove was evident. The dazzling brown eyes, with the afternoon sun glinting between their thick dark fringes, hated me for something;-wa

chairs will be more comfortable if I straighten their backs up a little. And this seat round the tree isn't bad. I-I'

Beechy, you take one of those steamer-chairs. I like a high seat myself. C

attitude. But the tall white girl (the name of "Maida" suited her singularly well) did not stir an inch. "I think I'll go on if you don't mind, Aunt Ka-I mean, Kittie," she said in a soft voice that was as American i

relative peremptorily. "You'll just stay here wi

't anything

rip, anyhow, if we go. Now, co

bediently as the brown child, though not so willingly, sat down i

e's too pretty to be an heiress. They don't make them like that. Such beauties never have a penny to bless themselves with. Just Terry

ve got in the world since Mr. Kidder died-is Beatrice, but we call her Beechy for short. We used to spell it B-i-c-e, which Mr. Kidder said was Italian; but people would pronounce it to rhyme with mice, so now we make it just like the tree, and then there can't

ith a verse thoroughly explaining who they are, isn't it?" remarked Miss Beechy in a little soft, childis

rmurs concerning tea. But, my back once turned upon the visitors, the pink, white, and green glamour

é, my French cook-housekeeper, my all

vertheless as near to being an angel as a fat, elderly, golden-hearted, sweet-natured, profane-speaking, hot-tempered peasant woman of Provence can possibly be. Whatever the greatest geni

n the sunshine that to produce proper cakes and rich cream at ten minutes' notice in a creamless

he family pet, a somewhat moth-eaten duck, from the y

mercilessly threatened to behead and cook for dinner that evening. "You have been spared too long; the best place for you is on the table," I heard her lecturing the evil cannibal, "though the

e, in my most winning tones. "Something has happe

sieur well knows that there is no tea; neither he nor th

adies to have some, and they have said yes. There must also be lettuce

ckedness, your duck, to lay you

but look here, Félicité, dear, kind, good Félicité, don't go back on me. Man and boy I've known you these eighteen months, and you'

and tea, cakes, and cream from

e them out of your inner consciousness.

e faith. I will do what I can, as Monsieur says, for the honour of the house. Let him go now to his friends, and make his

n. Then with a buoyant step I hastened round the house to rejoin the party in the front garde

came round the corner of the villa, to meet the unexpected.

d chin was in the air, and she wore an "I'm as good as you are, if not better" expression. The imps in Beechy's eyes were critically cataloguing eac

male relative must have made money in beer, pickles, or it might have been corsets or soap. They were that kind; and they had a great many teeth,

erage," and a Burke's "Landed Gentry," and a volume of "Etiquette of Smart Society" on the library shelves, if there was nothing else; and in

ch appears in The Riviera Sun to-day," began the Mother, whose a

ople at Home." (This with a dust-brush glance which swept the Americans out of the field.) "I think it is a very excellent idea of yours, Sir Ralph, to travel about the C

d us of Mrs. Fox-Porston's remaining

upon us, not the dogs of war, but the whole floating feminine population of the French Riviera. Something must be done,

we rose like mechanical figures to in

lue tissue veils, and little jingling bags on their belts, which showed that they were not married, because

ho had such a nice little paragraph in The Riviera Sun, close to your advertisement; and this is my chaperone

-er-my car are already engaged to Mrs. Kidder, of

t "yes" even if inadvertent, was equi

led demurely, and tossed her plaits over her shoulder. Even Miss Destre

e showed pale green through filmy sandwiches; small round cakes were piled, crisp and appetizing, on a cracked Sèvres dish; early strawberries glowe

her chaperone, took the hint and their leave; and the companion

said I. "Do make haste!"