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C N G AMVWILLIAMSON
i.„...i|vi.,;v'
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THE MOTOR MAID
BOOKS BT
C. N. AHD A. M. WILLIAMSON
LomO LOYBLAMS DnOOTBBS AlOBieA
Set in Silteb
Thb Dortnino CoNDVCrOB
The Princkm Pabseb
Mr Friend the CHAvmnm
Ladt Drrrr Aciom the Wateb
ROSEMART IN SEARCH OF A FaTHEB
The Princkm Virginia
The Car or Debtint
The Chaperon
-X
:r- >a^«
, "^.-■r-sv...
^ \ *
"'We raced along a clear road, the Etang uliimmcring blue
before us "
THE MOTOR MAID
BY
C. N. AND A. M. WILLIAMSON
BltutraHoru by
F. MELVILLE DU MOND AND F. LOWENHEIM
TORONTO
THE MUSSON BOOK COMPANY
LIMITED
U/6)
hioz.
nnmo m mw to>k, n. t. a.
ALL MOBTI ranyXD, mCLnDINO TBAT of TmAMBLATION
INTO romxioii lamguaois. wclusoio thx scamoimaviaii
094ia3«7
TO THE
THREE GERTRUDES
iJBi
ILLUSTRATIONS
** We raced along a dear road, the Etang shim-
mering blue before us " . . Frontispiece
rKCaXQ FAGB
" While I wrestled . . . with a bodice as snug as
the head of a drum, the lord of all it con-
tained appeared in the doorway " .
** It took half an hour to dig the car out, and push
her up from the hollow where the snow lay
thickest"
" Jack's hand, inside Mr. Stokes's beautiful, tall
collar, shook Bertie back and forth till his teeth
chattered like castanets " . .
4&
272
328
in!
THE MOTOR MAID
CHAPTER I
ONE hears of people whose hair turned white in a
single night. Last night I thought mine was
turning. I had a creepy feeling in the roots,
which seemed to crawl all the way down inside each sep-
arate hair, wriggling as it went. I suppose you could n't
have nervous prostration of the hair? I worried dread-
fully, it kept on so long; and my hair is so fair it would be
almost a temptation for it, in an emergency, to take the
one short step from gold to silver. I did n*t dare switch
on the light in the toagon-lit and peep at my pocket-book
mirror (which reflects one's features in sections of a square
inch, giving the survey of one's whole face quite a pano-
rama eflfect) for fear I might wake up the Bull Dog.
I 've spelt him with capitals, after mature deliberation,
because it would be nothing less than tb»e majestS to fob
him oflF with little letters about the size of his two lower
eye-tusks, or chin-molars, or whatever one ought to call
them.
He was on the floor, you see, keeping guard over his
mistress's shoes; and he might have been misguided
enough to think I had designs on them — though what
I could have used them for, unless I 'd been going to
Venice and wanting a private team of gondolas, I can't
imagine.
I being m the upper berth, you might (if you had n't seen
8
4 THE MOTOR MAID
him) have fancied me safe; but already he had once
padded half-way up the step-ladder, and sniffed at me
speculatively, as if I were a piece of meat on the top shelf
of a larder; and if half-way up, why not all the way up?
// Maii capable du Und.
I tried to distract my mind and focus it hard on other
things, as Christian Scientists tell you to do when you
have a pin sticking into your body for which le» con-
venancM forbid you to make an exhaustive search.
I lay on my back with my eyes shut, trying not to hear
any of the sounds in the wagonrlU (and they were not
confined to the snoring of His Majesty), thinking
desperately. "I will concentrate all my mentality,"
said I to myself, "on thoughts beginning with P, for
instance. My Past. Paris. Pamela."
Just for a few minutes it was comparatively easy.
"Dear Past I" I sighed, with a great sigh which for divers
reasons I was sure could n't be heard beyond my own
berth. (And though I try always even to think in English,
I find sometimes that the words group themselves in my
head in the old patterns — according to French idioms.)
"Dear Past, how thou wert kind and sweet! How it is
brutalizing to turn my back upon thee and thy charms
forever!"
"Oh, my goodness, I shall certainly die!" squeaked a
voice in the berth underneath; and then there was a sound
of wallowing.
She (my stable-companion, shall I call her?) had been
^ving vent to all sorts of strange noises at intervals, for a
long time, so that it would have been hopeless to try and
drown my sorrows in sleep.
THE MOTOR MAID 8
Away went the Gentle Twt with a bump, as il it had
knocked against a anag in the current of my thoughts.
Paris r Pamela instead, tlieni or both together, since
they seem inseparable, even when Pamela is at her most
American, and tells me to "talk United States."
It was all natural to think of Pamela, because it was
she who gave me the ticket for the train de Ivxe, and my
berth in the wag(m4U. It it had n't been for Pamela I
should at this moment have been crawling slowly, cheaply,
down Riviera-ward in a second-clasF train, sitting bolt
upright in a second-class carriage with smudges on my
nose, while perhaps some second-class child shed jammy
crumbs on my frock, and its second-class baby sister
howled. •„ M J *L
"Oh, why did I leave my peaceful home? wailed the
lady in the lower berth.
Heaven alone (unless it were the dog) knew why she
had, and knew how heartily I wished she had n't. A
good thing Cerberus was on guard, or I might have
dropped a pillow accidentally on her headl
Just then I was n't thanking Pamela for her generosity.
The second-class baby's mamma would have given it a
bottle to keep it still; but there was nothing I could give
the fat old lady; and she had already resorted to the
bottle (something in the way of patent medicine) without
any good result. Yet, was there nothing I could give her T
"Oh, I'm dying, I knouy I'm dying, and nobody
caresl I shall choke to deathl" she gurgled.
It was too much. I could stand it and the terrible
atmosphere no longer. I suppose, if I had been an early
Christian martyr, waiting for my turn to be devoured
■**L,
HI
• THE MOTOR MAID
wouM h«. U,«„ „j»tt into u« .^ out ofrfLr
Ijhd down f„m „y b.«h-„o th.„to to u„ *"•
Udd«r-d«gW , few wild «c„„d, i„ .fc, ^,. ™ ^
" ™ """^ °' '««' ""• "» '•«' berth.
What are jou going to dof" gMwl it. occBDMrt
*«^ r~n. th. gold of . loui. to th. »irs ^J:^
bnt^, „d „y tone ^ ^ ^ ,„„ ^^_^ .^«ely
J^Z-~;^\ ^^ '"" '^■"8 »•» •«1' other',
•fn T. ^ **''"* "y *«* 0' touch, or wu it
mercfully blunted T It «.n,M tUt the mon Jrtll
floor *« g»dy licking n>y to« with a ton™ ™ke .
huge .h„ o pink h«n, instead ., chewing Z, to ^.t
l«>ne. But there are creatures which do that to their
/care - for myself as well as for yon. A. for what
L T" ^f - ' '"■ 8°'"8 "^ "i" *'«'»' things R^
pthe wndow, and then -.kenl'M g^ngl Ji::!;
PnT? T."*.** °"^'" 8"^ the lady, who w«.
«:fln':nySt:'"""""^^'"'"""^-'»-'«I-
THE MOTOR MAID 7
" Not yet," said I, as I darted at the thick blind she had
drawn down over the window, and let it fly up with a
snap. I then opened the window itself, a few inches, and
in floated a perfumed breath of the soft April air for
which our bereaved lungs had been longing. The breeze
fluttered round my head like a benediction until I felt that
the ebbing tide of gold had turned, and was flowing into
my back hairi^in.
"No wonder you're dying, madam," I exclaimed,
switching the heat-lever to "Froid." "So was I, but
being merely an Upper Berth, with no rights, I was suflTer-
ing in silence. I watched you turn the heat full on, and shut
the window tight. I saw you go to bed in o// your clothes,
which looked terribly thick, and cover yourself up with
both your blankets; but I said nothing, because you were
a Lower Berth, and older than I am. I thought maybe
you wanted a Turkish Bath. But since you don't — I '11
try and save you from apoplexy, if it is n't too late."
I fumbled with brooches and buttons, with hooks and
eyes. It was even worse than I'd supposed. The
, creature's conception of a travelling costume en route
\ for the South of France consisted of a heavy tweed dress,
two gray knitted stay-bodices, one pink Jaeger chemise]
and a couple of red flannel pet: i- oats. My investigations
; went no further; but, er couraged in my rescue work
I by spasmodic gestures on the part of the patient, and
j forbearance on the part of the dog, I removed several
superfluous layers of wool. One blanket went to the
floor, where it was accepted in the light of a gift by His
I Majesty, and the other was returned to its owner.
"Now are you better, madam ?" I asked, panting with
<w
Itii I
« THE MOTOR MAID
long and well-earned breaths. She reposed on an elbow,
gazing up at me as at a surgeon who has perfonned a
painful but successful operation; and she was an object
pour faire rire, the poor lady!
She wore an old-fashioned false front of hair, "sunning
over with curls" (brown ones, of a brown never seen on
land or sea), and a pair of spectacles, pushed up in an
absent-minded moment, were entangled in its waves.
Her face, which was large, with a knot of tiny features in
the middle, shone red with heat and excitement. She
would have had the look of an elderly child, if it had n't
been for her bright, shrewd little eyes, which twinkled
observantly — and might sparkle with temper. Nobody
who was not rich and important would dare to dress as
badly as she did. Altogether she was a figure of fun.
Indeed, I could n't help feeling what quaint mantelpiece
ornaments she and her dog would make. Yet, for some
reason, I did n't feel inclined to laugh, and I eyed her as
solemnly as she eyed me. As for His Majesty, I began
to see that I had misunderstood him. After all, he had
never, from the first, regarded me as an eatable.
^^ "Yes, I am better," replied His Majesty's mistress.
"People have always told me it came on treacherously
cold at night in France, so I prepared accordingly. I
suppose I ought to thank you. In fact, I do thank
you."
^^ "I acted for myself as much as for you," I confessed.
"It was so hot, and you were suffering out loud."
"I have never travelled at night before," the lady
defended herself. " Indeed, I 've made a point of travel-
ling as little as possible, except by carriage. I don't
I I
THE MOTOR MAID
9
inning
sen on
don't ^J
consider trains a means of conveyance for gentlefolk.
They seem well enough for cattle who may not mind
being herded together."
"Or for dogs," I suggested.
"Nothing is too good for Beau — my orUy Beau I" (at
this I did not wonder). "But I wouldn't have moved
without him. He 's as necessary to me as my con-
science. I was afraid the guard was going to make a
fuss about him, which would have been awkward, as I
can't speak a word of French, or any other silly language
into which Latin has degenerated. But luckily English
gold doesn't need to be translated."
"It loses in translation," said I, amused. I sat down
on my bag as I spoke, and timorously invited Beau
(never was name less appropriate) to be patted. He arose
from the blanket and accepted my overtures with an
expression which may have been intended for a smile,
or a threat of the most appalling character. I have
seen such legs as his on old-fashioned silver teapots;
and the crook in his tail would have made it useful
as a door-knocker.
"I don't think I ever saw him take so to a stranger,"
exclaimed his mistress, suddenly beaming.
"I wonder you risked him with me in such close
quarters then," said I. " Would n't it have been safer if
you 'd had your maid in the compartment with you "
"My maid? My tyrant!" snorted the old lady.
"She 's the one creature on earth I am afraid of, and she
knows it. When we got to Dover, and she saw the
Channel wobbling about a little, she said it was a great
nasty wet thing, and she would n't go on it. When I
13 I ii
" THK MOTOR MAID
«p.nW than ,he, bu. f h" ^f ^^^ "» ""»•
question of claa«j Q««,- * . ^ ® perhaps a
You, too, I ^L.™ r* """."" ""'y *''<'°«'«»-
poorly o yoTvt" v^^T. ' ™ ''""''«' «» *!■*
zt'' "T'-.i bought yi wi*'^:jS;rCyS
now you 're putting him." '^'*
"I ««. rather afraid at firat," I «lmitt«l "r„
-.English buU dog aodally before!^^- ^'"™"°"
■if. ^Tov" -Tors^r, "^ y- ^■•"»'« »««■«' in
hurt . fly" """ '™°'^= "«1 «»y would n't
"■i^dT-But'i t TJT,!- ^'^ ™^' ^ ^»««
«>«lifed. Itmakefmef^*'^'"J*'^»«- ^ <*« «•
-« «. w in this 4L. rnyro^ts,!?",^
clothes and putting Tyou, Lgh"^^ ^fh^'if ^""'
yol'^^ertt^l "sfn i- *^" "'«''*"™- ">-
young woman 1 1 V *^ '■""* ^o". my dear
but I'^zTit -s oS;t e£:r "n™"' "' '^''
"T ,1 u 1 , -^ "^* ®' onginaitv."
I don t know which I 'd ».her be,?i sai^, ..,,^
'm
THE MOTOR MAID
or mysterious, if I could n't afford both. Bu
a young woman."
"Goodnessl" exclaimed the old lady, wrinkling up
'Z7::izzr" "^-^^p-^^Hnd,b^uti^
I laughed. "1 mem je suis jeune fille. I 'm not a
young woman. I 'm a young giri."
''Dear me, is there any difference?'*
"There is in France."
''I 'm not surprised at queer ideas in France, or any
other foreign country, where I 've always unde«tood that
ftw '^flT^'PP'"- ^y^^^^'teveiybodybeEngUsh?
It would be so m.ch more simple. But you 're not
French, are you?" / " « noi
"Half of me is."
''And what 's the other half, if I may ask ?"
^ Wrican. My father was French, my mother
'•No wonder you don't always feel at home in life
X:^!:^ ''' "-'" ''' ^^-"'^- "^* -t bet'
''Everything is up^tting with me lately," I said.
With me too, if It comes to that -- or would be if it
were n|t for Beau. What a pi. you have n't gl!! ^:I::
worHw'"!?'^^"*"'' ^'° *^" Americanized sense of the
word) I had one, and was running a-vav from him «!
<« a beau made me want to giggle hpterically.
mo.S".'"^ ™.'_"l.en you .peak of your faLr and
mother, went on the old lady, with childlike curiosity
12 THE MOTOR MAID
which I was encouragmg by not going back to bed.
"Does that mean that you 've lost them?"
"Yes," I said.
"And lately?"
"My father died when I was sixteen, my mother left
me two years ago."
"You don't look more than nineteen now."
"I 'm nearly twenty-one."
"Well, I don't mean to catechize you, though one
certainly must get friendly — or the other way — I
suppose, penned up in a place like this all night. And
you 've really l>een very kind to me. Although you 're
a pretty girl, as you must know, I did n't think at first
I was going to like you so much."
"And I didn't you," I retorted, laughing, because I
really did begin to like the queer old 1 V °ow, and was
glad I had n't dropped a pillow on her head.
"That's right. Be frank. I Uke frankness. Do
you know, I believe you and I would get on very well
together if our acquaintance was going to be continued?
If Beau approves of a person, I let myself go."
" You use him as if he were a barometer."
"There you are again, with your funny ideas! I shall
remember that one, and bring it out as if it were my
ovm. I consider myself quite lucky to have got you for a
travelling companion. It 's such a comfort to hear English
again, and talk it, after having to converse by gesture —
except with Beau. I hope you 're going on to Italy ? "
"No. I'm getting off at Cannes."
" I 'm sorry. But I suppose you 're glad ? '*
"Not particularly," said I.
THE MOTOR MAID
13
"I *ve always heard that Cannes was gay."
"It won't be for me."
"Your relations there don't go out much?"
"I 've no relations m Cannes. Are n't you tired now,
and wouldn't you like me to make you a little more
comfortable?"
" Does that mean that you 're tired of answering ques-
tions ? I have n't meant to be ride."
"You haven't been," I assured her. "You're very
kind to take an interest."
"Well, then, I 'm not tired, and I tootddn't like to be
made more comfortable. I 'm very well as I am. Do
you want to go to sleep ?"
"I want to, but I know I can't. I 'm getting hungry.
Are you?"
"Getting? I've got. It Simpkins were here I'd
have her make us tea, in my tea-basket."
"I '11 make it if you like," I volunteered.
"A French — a half French —girl make tea?"
"It 's the American half that knows how."
"You look too ornamental to be useful. But you
can try."
I did try, and succeeded. It was rather fun, and never
did tea taste so delicious. There were biscuits to go
with it, which Beau shared; and I do wish that people
(other people) were obliged to make faces when they
eat, such as Beau has to make, because if so, one could
add a new mterest to life by inviting even the worst
bores to dinner.
I was fascinated with his contortions, and I did not
attempt to conceal my sudden change of opinion con-
14
THE MOTOR MAID
■ii
cerning Beau as a companion. When I had humbly
invited him to drink out of my saucer, which I held from
high tide to low, I saw that my conquest of his mistress
was complete. Already we had exchanged names, as
well as some confidences. I knew that she was Miss
Paget, and she knew that J was Lys d'Angely; but after
the tea-drinking episode she became doubly friendly.
She told me that, owing to an unforeseen cireumstance
(partly, even largely, connected with Beau) which had
caused a great upheaval in her life, she had now not a
human being belonging to her, except her maid Simpkins,
of whom she would like to get rid if only she knew how.
"Talk of the Old Man of the Seal " she sighed. "He
was an afternoon caller compared with Simpkins. She 's
been on my back for twenty years. I suppose she will
be for another twenty, unless I slam the door of the family
vault in her face."
"Couldn't Beau help you?" I asked.
"Even Beau is powerless against her. She has
hypnotized him with marrow bones."
"You 've escaped from her for the present," I sug-
gested. "She 's on the other side of the Channel. Now
is your time to be bold."
"Ah, but I can't stop out of England for ever, and I
tell you she 's waiting for me at Dover. A relative (a
very eccentric one, and quite different from the rest of
us, or he would n't have made his home abroad) has left
me a house in Italy, some sort of old castle, I believe —
so unsuitable! I 'm going over to see about selling it
for I Ve no one to trust but myself, owing to the circum-
stances of which I spoke. I want to get back as soon as
THE MOTOR MAID
16
possible — I hope in a few weeks, though how I shall
manage without any Italian, heaven may know — I
don't! Do you speak it?"
"A Uttle."
" Well, I wish I could have you with me. You 'd make
a splendid companion for an old woman like me: young,
good to look at, energetic (or you would n't be travelling
about alone), brave (conquered your fear of Beau),
accomplished (three languages, and goodness knows what
besides!), presence of mind (the way you whisked my
clothes off), handy (I never tasted better tea) — alto-
gether you sum up ideally. What a pity you 're rich,
and out of the market!"
"If I look rich my appearance must be more distin-
gubhed than I supposed — and it 's also very deceiving,"
said I.
" You 're rich enough to travel for pleasure in wagovrlUs,
and have silver-fitted bags."
"I'm not travelling for pleasure. You exaggerate
my bags and my vxigorirlits, for I 've only one of each;
and both were given me by a friend who was at the Con-
vent with me."
"The Convent! Good heavens! are you an escaping
nun?"
I laughed. "I went to school at a Convent. That
was when I thought I was going to be rich — at least,
rich enough to be like other girls. And if I am 'escaping'
from something, it is n't from the arms of religion."
"If you 're not rich, and are n't going to relatives, why
not take an engagement with me ? Come, I 'm in earnest.
I always make up my mind suddenly, if it's anything
-r
W THE MOTOR MAID
important, and haidly ever rtaet it T '«
»iJ. You -v. ^. Jr,oJX,t ^^"^ " •^""
"To be in»™-~i I ' «ng«ged already."
,™ "^^ ^•*'' I '"PPO* you mean ?■' '
., P"'' '"»«''. nol To a PrinceM."
tkjt Eu„pe i, ^„t 1^^'" » ™""- I •»«
Nice prospect for you I"
"Well, if your Princess sheds vou let m*. l™^
you may live vrt ♦« J.i- I ' ® ™®^» ^nd
y "ve yet to deliver me from Simokinq T f^ i
you 'd be equal to it! Mv «ri^« .^^P^ns. I feel
Squam BTOoml,„d3 House, Sur:.y.''* ^* ^"°°
- Now you •« not u, lose «„..." ,he in.p«,sed upon
**•
<(1
THE MOTOR MAID 17
me. "Write if you 're scattered over Europe by this
Russian (I never did believe much in Princesses, excepting
of wurae, our om dear Royalties), or if you ever come
to England. Even if it *s years from now, I assure you
Beau and I won't have foi^gotten you. As for your
address " •'
"I have n't any," I said. "At present I 'm depending
on the Princess for one. She's at the Hotel Majestic
Palace, Cannes; but from what my friend Pam — the
Comtesse de Nesle - says, I fancy she does n't stop long
in any town. It was the Comtesse de Nesle who got me
the place. She 's the only one who knows where I 'm
going, because -after a fashion, I 'm rmming away to
be the Princess's companion."
"Running away from the Man?"
••Yes; also from my relatives who 're sure it 's my duty
to be hut companion. So you see I can't give you their
address. I ye ceased to have any right to it And
now I really thmk I Aai better go back to bed."
! a
CHAPTER n
'' a
'S
4k T HALF-PAST ten this morning wc parted, the
/\ best of friends, and I dropped a good-bye kiss
X^L. into the deep black gorge between the promon-
tories of Beau's velvet forehead and plush nose.
We 'd had breakfast together, Miss Paget and I, in
say nothing of the dog, and I felt rather cheerful. Of
course I dreaded the Princess; but I always did like
adventures, and it appeared to me distinctly an adventure
to be a companion, even in misery. Besides, it was nice to
have come away from Monsieur Charretier, and to feel
that not only did he not know where I was, but that he
was n't likely to find out. Poor mel I little guessed what
an adventure on a grand scale I was in for. Already this
morning seems a long time ago; a year at the Convent
used to seem shorter.
I drove up to the hotel in the omnibus which was at
the station, and asked at the oflSce for the Princess
Boriskoff . I said that I was Mademoiselle d'Angely, and
would they please send word to the Princess, because
she was expecting me.
It was a young assistant manager who received me,
and he gave me a very queer, startled sort of look when
I said this, as if I were a suspicious person, and he did n't
quite know whether it would be better to answer me or
call for help.
18
THE MOTOR MAID
1»
"I haven't made a mistake, have I?" I asked, begin-
ning to be anxious. "This w the hotel where the Princess
is staying, isn't it?"
"She was staying here," the youth admitted.
"But "
"Hta she gone?"
"Not exactly."
"She must be either here or gone."
Again he regarded me with suspicion, as if he did not
agree with my statement.
"Are you a relative of the Princess?" he inquired.
" No, I 'm engaged to be her companion."
"Ohl If that is all! But perhaps, in any case, it will
be better to wait for the manager. He will be here
presently. I do not like to take the responsibility."
"The responsibility of what?" I persisted, my heart
beginning to feel like a patter of rain on a tin roof.
"Of telling you what has happened."
"If something has happened, I can't wait to hear it.
I must know at once," I said, with visions of all sorts of
horrid things: that the Princess had decided not to have
a companion, and was going to disown me; that my
cousin Madame Milvaine had somehow found out every-
thing; that Monsieur Charretier had got on my track,
and was here in advance waiting to pounce upon me.
"It is a thing which we do not want to have talked
about in the hotel," the young man hesitated.
"I assure you I won't talk to any one. I don't know
any one to talk to."
"It is very distressing, but the Princess Boriskoff died
about four o'clock this morning, of heart failure."
i !:
» THE MOTOR MAID
IS?'"' ' • I <»"W not get out another wonJ.
Theae things are not Uked in hotels, even when not
contagious."
The assistant manager looked gloomily at me, as if
I might be held responsible for the inconvenient event:
but still I could not speak.
"Especially in the high season. It is beinir kent
secret. That is the custom. In some days, or less, it
will leak out, but not till the Princess has-been removed.
You will kindly not menUon it, mademoiselle. This
IS very bad for us."
No, I would kindly not mention it, but it was worse
for me than for them. The Hotel Majestic Palace looked
nch; very, veiy rich. It had heaps of splendid mirrors
and curtams, and imitation Louis XVI. sofas, and eveiy-
thing that a hotel needs to make it happy and successful,
while I had nothing in the world except what I stood up
m, one fitted bag, one small box, and thirty-two francs.
I did n t quite see, at first sight, what I was to do; but
neither did the assistant manager see what that had to
do with him.
Once I knew a giri who was an actress, and on tour
m the country she nearly dio^.. d herself one day. When
the ster heard of it, he said: "How ^hovld we have
played to-night if you 'd been dead ~ without an under-
study, too?"
At this moment I knew just how the giri must have
felt when the star said that.
" I -- 1 think I must stay here a day or two, until I can —
arrange things," I managed to stammer. "Have you a
small single room disengaged ?"
f
THE MOTOR MAID 21
"We have one or two small north rooms which are
usually occupied by valets and maids," the young man
informed me. "They are twelve francs a day."
" I '11 take one," I repUed. And then I added anxiously :
" Have any relatives of the Princess come ? "
"None have come; and certainly none will come, as
it would now be too late. Her death was very sudden.
The Princess's maid knows what to do. She is an elderly
woman, experienced. The suite occupied by Her Highness
will be free to-morrow."
"Oh I And had she no friends here?"
"I do not think the Princess was a lady who made
friends. She was veiy proud and considered herself
above other people. Would you like to see your room,
mademoiselle ? I will send some one to take you up to it
It will be on the top floor."
I was in a mood not to care if it had been on the roof, or
in the cellar. I hardly knew where I was going, as a few
minutes later a still younger youth piloted me across a
laige square hall toward a lift; but I was vaguely con-
scious that a good many smart-looking people were sitting
or standmg about, and that they glanced at me as I went
by. I hoped dimly that I did n't appear conspicuously
pale and stricken.
Just in front of the lift door a tall woman was talking
to a little man. There was an instant of delay while my
guide and I waited for them to move, and before they
realized that we were waiting.
"They say the poor thing is no worse than yesteiv
day, however, my maid tells me " The lady
had begun in a low, mysterious tone, but broke off
I"l
If!
iiii.
22 THE MOTOR MAID
ii'thX'" '* '*"'' """^ '" *^* ^'^ "" ^'^^'"^
I knew instinctively «,;io was the subject of the whispered
conversation, and I could n't help &dng my eyes aW
api^almgly on the tall woman; for^hougLhe rmtd"
L^"h k k, 1' '""^"« *° ^^^^ ^«r ^«r - Wend.
She had probably been acquainted with Princess Boriskoff,
I said to myself, or she would not be talking of her now
with bated breath, as a "poor thing » '
Evidently the lady had been waiting for the lift to come
down, for when my guide rang and it descended she took
a step forward, giving a friendly little nod to her com-
riLTheT^' "^^"' ^ ^-' ^- ^^-^--^*'«
Then, instead of sailing ahead of me into the lift, as she
had a perfect right to do, being much older and far more
important than I and the first comer as well, she hesitated
with a pleasant half smile, as much as to say, "You 're a
stranger. I give up my right to you."
ST\^^'^^" \ ^^' '*'P™ ^^^ *« »et her pass,
which she did, making room for me to sit down beside
Her on the narrow plush-covered seat. But I did n't care
to sit. I wa^ so crushed, it seemed that, if once I sat
down I shouldn't have courage to rise up again and
wrestle with the difficulties of life. ^
The lady got out on the second floor, throwing back a
kindly glance, as if she took a little interest in me, and
wanted me to know it. I suppose it must have been
because I was tired and nervous after a whole night
without sleep that the shocK I'd just received was
tfM
THE MOTOR MAID jj
r^ i^^. ''°™ '"""""y- «> ""« *e should n't J
them and th,nk me an idiot, but I was afmid she d^
The young man who „„ taking me up to the top floor
and t,«.tmg me mther nonchalantly because I waH
r .r^h Roomer and a Twelve Francer, waved the liftbov
..e must l,e considered a person worth conciliating.
my«l; andlT ""-'^-f-'"" "»"'. I "ed to Compose
myself and make plans; but to make plans on thirty-^o
(«^ when you 've no home, and would be far f™m"°
:r:rnrwar;rt^:-r^^-ewo:
P.n.el.de'Ssai^VCwX^^r ''^- ^*
-t:^;tyt^:::^S7=»X.
-^Sfti£^Sv'-r-
against it." ^^ ^°"^^ ^ ^^"^ ^^^^^ "up
going in Italy, and i tu^be f^' Z T ''' ™
of her English add,esses,asIco^IdnW T^ \° °™
siting for an answer. *P °'' "'"*» ^ '«'
AU^ther thinp we» veiy bad with me.
After I had sat down and thought for a while, I rang,
2* THE MOTOR MAID
»d«ked for the housekeeper. A hint or two „,e.l«i
«h.t she was aware of what had happened and . JT-
i^l^U, have heen Prince,, SCl^tnl
said that I must see the Princess's m«I,l cu *^**°°' ^
*omyr«,n.. I must haveTiX^^t;. ^'■"°'^«'™
wonJwh^'^^^SLriir^^^^He. »..U «„,,.„
thewannth„fd.i,,u,er.r„r.ir^ rc''"'"'"'
She could ,pe«k French, and we talked to«'L Y«
d::to':tr.,'^ r ^-^ "'"^^- ^^-iJz
Life wa,hariT. •/,.""• '»"-'''»« would you?
power to do an^hing for rle^ tl' mZZ^^ ^;^
no instructions. These things haDn^fd^ w m
made the best of thpm rpu ^ happened. Weill one
lae oest Of them. There was nothing more to «.v
So we said nothimr more anH th^ ^'
res aurant was large and terribly magnificen Zh
The mt ,^j ,ea wa, thickly dotted with „,„y .„,.,,
THE MOTOR MAID ^
toble-isUnds that gUttered appetiri„»i„ vrith ,-|v Z
glass; but I could not ha™ »«! J^ / ■ ""' "<'
appetite even if I y il „ ™ '"""''^ '^ -dmowledge «.
as I was piloted ^ ttXttrv ht''*^' "■"
heard people talldng about 2f te^!^ ^ "^ ™'" ^
renundingn.ethatlLsinapTa^dev^^nr'''"'^
pleasure. *^ aevoted to the pursuit of
changed ,„. atetyt^t n^XetT ^'"^ ''"
exactly in the middle of VZ. T '^' """■) ™
faces »d backsThl^'."* ™""' "* "" "«" »™ »'
One of the faces was that of ♦»,- i„ j . ,
with me in the lift; Tnd now and t' "^ "^ «""* "^
distance that sepamted It 1 "' ^'"^ ^^^ t^^
sataloneatatartt^^LCti^I^"^-"^^- ^'^
read a book M she ate. *^*"*^^"^ «>ses on it, and she
One order^ here a la cartP- *h^r^
"^l^J^^S:, "''• " '" '^ "^ '^ table
Suddenly the chorus of an Am««-
mocking echoes through lb J^Tr/r^ '^^ ^'*^
«ng it at the Convent! ^ ^^^'^ ^^^^la
.T:^,^!*!: '?*'«' '*«'™"«h the ban:
^ don t give bn^ with one &h-ball!
WwJon t^w-bread with one fish^o^/-
26 THE MOTOR MAID
lowed „n:ui' *Tet,r'""« '"" °"'"' -"^^ ">'-
. ?^cr^re^fi.t-t.tr::;
OhI thank youl" I hesitated. "I »
inte^te^'S";;::'!"::' z "■' ''"'^' "'>■" ^-^ '-
about stTge^lS' ""'' f ""* »" ""ker curious
oijjjcrs — we Idle ones here — - 1 tonk th^ i:u ^
i- ne did n t tell me she was dead, poor
THE MOTOR MAID ^7
mind my speaking to you?" I» you would n t
there • «nrl i I ^jygested. Wp can talk more quietly
ope!:,'!* ^rct'l""^*"- '""' *' -»- ' »•■«
about her book«, nn^ i, . "erseit. She talked ony
coffee h^.'e^^.Stf^^tt""' ""^"^ """ *«
advantage of her kindn*.,, T '^*"*^^ *« *aJ^e
butshefasiSbt:^^^^^ help;
and the fi«t thing I knew T ^^ Inshwoman can be,
its worries. ^ ' ^ ^^^ "°^P*^^d ^7 heart of
ffi
t
CHAPTER III
YOU will have to go back to the cousins you 've
been living with in Pans," pronounced Lady
Kilmarny. "You're much too young and
pretty to be anywhere alone."
"I can't go on living with them unless I promise to
marry Monsieur Charretier," I explained. "I 'd rather
scrub floors than marry Monsieur Charretier."
"You 'd never finish one floor. The second would
finish you. I thought French ^rls — well, then, half
French girls — usually let their people arrange their
marriages."
"Perhaps I 'm not usual. I hope Monsieur Charretier
IS n t.
"Is he such a monster?"
" He is fat, especially in all the places he ought n't to
be fat. And old. But worse than his embonpoint and
his nose, he made his money in — you could never
guess."
"I see by your face, my poor child: it was Liver
Pill ."
"Something far more dreadful."
"Are there lower depths?"
"There are — Com Plasters."
"Oh, my dear, you are quite right! You couldn't
marry him."
THE MOTOR MAID 29
"Thank you so muchi Then, I can't go back to my
cousins. They — they take Monsieur Charretier
seriously. I think they even take his plasters — gratui-
tously.'*
"Is he so very rich?"
"But disgustingly rich. He h-w an awful, bulbous
new chateau in the country, with dozens of incredibly
high-powered motoivcars; and in the most expensive
part of Paris a huge apartment wriggling from floor to
ceiUng with Ncmveau Art. The giri who marries hira will
have to be smeared with diamonds, and know the most
appalling people. In fact, she '11 have to be a kind of
walking, pictorial advertisement for the success of Charre-
tier's Com Plasters."
"He must know some nice people, since he knows
relations of yours."
"Thank you for the compliment, which I hope you
pay me on circumstantial evidence. But it 's deceiving.
My mother, I believe, was the only nice person in her
family. These cousins, husband and wife, brought
mamma to Europe to live with them when she was a young
giri, quite rich and an orphan. They were furious when
she fell in love with papa, who was only a lieutenant with
nothing but a very old name, the ruins of a castle that
tourists paid francs to see, and a ramshackle house in
Paris almost too dilapidated to let. It was a mere detail
to them that he happened to be one of the best-looking and
most agreeable young men in the world. They did noth-
ing but say, 'I told you sol' for years, whenever anything
disastrous happened — as it constantly did, for poor
papa and mamma loved each other so much, and had so
30
THE MOTOR MAID
II
much fun» that they could n't *iave time to be business-
like. My cousins thought everything mamma did was
a madness — such as sending me to the most fashionable
convent school in France. As if I had n't to be educated!
And then, when the castle fell so to bits that tourists
would n't bother with it any more, and nobody but rats
would live in the Paris house unless it was repaii hI —
and poor papa was killed in a horrid little Saturday-to-
Monday war of no importance (except to people whose
hearts it broke) — oh I I believe the cousins were glad I
They thought it was a judgment. That happened
years ago, when I was only fifteen, and though they 've
plenty of money (more than mast people in the American
colony) they did n't offer to help; and mamma would
have died sooner than ask. I had to be snatched out of
school, to find that all the beautiful dreams of being a
happy dihutante must go by contraries. We lived in the
tumble-down house ourselves, mamma and I, and her
friends rallied round her — she was so popular and
pretty. They got her chances to give singing lessons,
and me to do translating, and painting memu. We were
happy again, after a while, in spite of all, and people were
so good to us! Mamma used to hold a kind of salon,
with all the brightest and best crowding to it, though
they got nothing but sweet biscuits, vin ordinaire, and
conversation — and besides, the house might have taken
a fancy to fall down on their heads any minute. It was
sporting of them to come at all!"
"And the cousins. Did they come?"
"Not they! They 're of the society of the little Brothers
and Sisters of the Rich. Their set was quite different
THE MOTOR MAID
31
from ours. But when mamma died nearly two years
ago, and I was alone, they did call, and Cousin Emily
offered me a home. I was to give up all my work, of
course, which she considered degrading, and was simply
to make myself useful to her as a daughter of the
house might do. That was what she said."
"You accepted?"
" Yes. I did n't know her and her husband as well as
I do now; and before she died mamma begged me to go
to them, if they asked me. That was when Monsieur
Charretier came on the scene — at least, he came a few
momLs later, and I 've had no peace since. Lately,
things were'growing more and more impossible, when my
best friend, Comtesse de Nesle, came to my rescue and
found (or thought she 'd found) me this engagement with
the Princess. As I told you, I simply ran away — sneaked
away — and came here without any one but Pamela
knowing. And now she — the Comtesse — is just sailing
for New York with her husband."
"The Comtesse de Nesle — that pretty little American I
I 've met her in Paris — and at the Dublin Horse Show,"
exclaimed Lady Kilmamy. "Well, I wish I could take
up the rescue work where she has laid it down. I think
you are a most romantic little figure, and I 'd love to
engage you as my companion, only my husband and I
are as poor as church mice. Like your father, we 've
nothing but our name and a few ruins. When I come
South for my health I can't afford such luxuries as a hus-
band and a maid. I have to choose between them and
a private sitting-room. So you see, I can't possibly
indulge in a companion."
^tM
if
I
S2 THE MOTOR MAID
People aeemed to be always wanting me as one. and
then reluctantly abandningmel
" Youp kindness and sympathy have helped me a lot."
said I.
" They won't pay youp way. "
"I have no way. So far as I can see. I shall have to
stop m Cannes, anonymously so to speak, for the rest of
my life.
"Where would you Uke to go, if you could choose-
since you can't go to your relations ? "
Again my Uioughts travelled after Miss Paget, as if
she had been a fat, red wiU-o'-tiie-wisp.
"To England, perhaps," I answered. "In a few weeks
from now I might be able to find a position there."
And I went on to tell, in as few words as possible, my
adventure m the railway train. ^
Ji ^'"U'l ^"^ ^^^ Kilmamy. " We '11 look her up in
^ m Zj *"*^ "^ '^ '^^ "^'*«- I' «^« '« anybody,
she 11 be there. And Who's Wlu> I always have with me
da^r;us?' ""^^ " "^'^^ P"*-^^"' ^*'« ^-^
"How can you tell I 'm not one?" I asked "Yet
you spoke to me."
.V '^V"/''/'*'^ '" * ^^°^ °^ ^°^«We »x»k. caUed
You re You.' It's sufficient reference for me. Besides,
If your two eyes could n't be trusted, it would be easy to
shed you. *'
Lady Kihnamy said tiiis smilingly, as she found the red
book, and passed her finger down the columns of P's.
^ JTes, here 's the name, and the two addresses on the
visitingK»rd. She 's the Honourable Maria Paget, only
THE MOTOR MAID 33
daughter of the Ute Baron Northfield. Yes. anen««-
ment with her would be safe, if not agreeable. But how
to get you to England ?"
"Perhaps I could go as somebody's maid," I reflected
aloud.
She looked at me sharply. " Would you do th&tV'
'It would be better than being an advertisement for
Com Plasters," I smiled.
"Then," said Lady Kilmamy, "perhaps, after all, I
can help you. But no - 1 should never dare to suggest
itl The thought of a girl like you -it would htZ>
dreadful."
I
ini
1
i
CHAPTER IV
WHEN my father had been extravagant, he
used to aay gaily in self-defence that "one
* • . ... ^^ something to one's ancestors." Cer-
toinly. ,f ,t had not been for several of his ancesto«,
he would not have owed so much to his contemporaries.
But m spite of their agreeable vices, or because of Uiem. I
was brought up in the cult of ancestor worship, as
religiously as if I had been Chinese.
To be a d'Angely was a privilege, in our eyes, which
not only supplied gilding for the gingerbread, but for
tue most economical substitutes.
"Ntnijetuit,
Nt prince aiuii,
JfuukSired^Angdy,"
calmly remarked the gentleman of Louis XI.'s time
who became famous for hanging as many retainer as he
hked and defending his action by originating the
family motto. °
Mother also had ancestors who began to take them-
selves seriously somewhere about the time of the May.
flower, though for all we know they may have secured
tneir passage in the steerage.
"A Courtenay can do anything." was their rather
ambiguous motto, which suggested that it might have been
started m self^iefence, if not as a boast; and it (the name,
M
, t
THE MOTOR MAID 35
baptasm, ,h., rf „„,„,y J have an excu« It
land for «.y <i„k d«d or infra dig-neM. ''
1 UKd often to murmur the conwUne mottoes <« mv«,i»
when pattering th„,„gh mudd, ,t«.^. .~ ^Tke
/Tk.. ^ . *' ""P °' "y """al lungs.
(Iha expression may sound ridiculous, but it isn't
ra/w ^T '^''^^'^' ^"^ «°^"« *« ^ « lady's-maid, or
rather, I am going to be the maid of an extreme^ nvT
person who calls herself a lidy extremely nch
ih^'i^i^Tl '""I r '^"'""^ ~°^^' '^-"i-g to
n.l^ K 7 ' ^""^ ^ '^^"g '"^"^ one to the other
^t^Ied^rm ' "? !^"^^^ "^e giddy. But it 's
settled I m gomg to do it. I had almost to dras the
aZ: ^:vL^^.hfrrL''-t '-r "
c« «a II 1 were the great lady, she the ooor voim^
girl m want of a situation. ^ ^ ""^
There was, said she, a quaint creature in the hotel
^m
^1
I'
» THE MOTOR MAID
(one met these things abroad, and was obliged to be more
or less avil to them) who resembled Monsieur Charretier
m that she was disgustingly rich. It was not Com
l^"l A™ ^"'' ^"^'' *^" ^^-y «^°»« «ver pills
which had dropped into the mind of Udy Kilmarny
when I hesitated to put into words the foundation of my
pretendanis future. It was the Liver Pills which had
eventually introduced into her brain the idea she falter^
mgly embodied for me.
The husband of the quaint creature had invented the
pills, even as Monsieur Charretier had invented his abom-
ination. Because of the pills he had been made a Knight:
at least, Lady Kihnamy did n't know any other rea^n.
He was Sir Samuel Tumour (evolved from Tumer)
just married for the second time to a widow in whose'
head It was hke the continual frothing of new wine to
be 'her ladyship."
Lady Tumour had lately quarrelled with a maid and
dismissed her, Lady Kilmamy told me Now, she was in
immediate need of another, French (because French maids
are fashionable) able to speak English, because the Tur-
nour family had as yet mastered no other language. Udy
Kihnamy beUeved that this was the honeymoon of the
newly married pair, and that, after having paused
on the wing at Cannes, for a little billing and cooing,
they mtended to pursue their travels in France for
some weel^, befo. 3 returning to settle down in England.
Her Ladyship" was asking everybody with whom
she had contrived to scrape acquaintance (especially
^ they had titles) to recommend her a maid. Lady
Kilmamy, as a member of the League against
37
THE MOTOR i. d
onything except C^ Ph^J ZlTt^! u '"^^ "^
mention that the mousetrap' "^ t f '"""'' *"
to be nibbled. "^ •*"' *"* •*<** waiting
"Do you think ihe'd hare mej" 1 «fed "a
qua.„tcre8ture,her(«dy8hipf" ' asked- 'the
"Only too likely that she would," said T^, vi
"But remember, the worn is ,h. ^^ TT ^ihnamy.
a quaint creatu^. Stet oii^ u"^"\*™" "^'^
offensively happy and woL^ ,. P'^ "'""" '«"*».
A truly .^K':rir aZ"" t'r*""'
the Uttle thing tou saw Z , T * '^'"n this hotel -
all about themrth iThi!t .K* *°J^ °"'"^' fa"-"'
somewhere. mfJ^ ™.'^ ■^"i" ^~'*«™ «>^
She was a ehemSl'sl^r ^dVl' "^!":'- ^'•'
assistant, long before the Kn ,L,? • ^ T" *« h^We
Wm, and "a^ed rd*hi™dX''|S' ~ !'»»"-'
he dashed into the bankrupf™ ^T^^ T!"
1^ fim wife an7;l'atig™S:S' "^^JT' "' "^'
widow by this time tafano.^ i^T" ■ "''' '''™ ^ a
and gathered her Uke a .ate^.:enf:^^,;t'--
! ^1
ill
38
THE MOTOR MAID
'i'
on all the airs in the world, and diamonds in the morning.
She 'II treat you Uke the dirt under her feet, because that 's
her conception of her part — and yours. But I 'U intro-
duce you to her if you like."
After a Kttle reflection, I did like; but as it seemed to
me that there 'd better not be two airs in the family, I
said that I 'd put on none at all, and make no pretensions.
"She 's the kind that does n't know a lady or gentle-
man without a label," my kind friend warned me. " You
must be prepared for that."
"I '11 be prepared for anything," I assured her. But
when it came to the test, I was n't quite.
Lady Kilmamy wrote a Une to Lady Tumour, and
asked if she might bring a maid to be interviewed — a
young woman whom she could recommend. The note
was sent down to the bride (who of course had the best
suite in the hotel, on the first floor) and presently an
answer came — saying that Her Ladyship would be
pleased to receive Lady Kilmamy and the person in
question.
Suddenly I felt that I must go alone. "Please leave
me to my fate," I said. "I should be too'self-conscious
if you were with me. Probably I should laugh in her
face, or do something dreadful."
"Very well," Lady Kilmamy agreed. "Perhaps
you 're right. Say that I sent you, and that, though
you 've never been with me, friends of mine know all
about you. You might tell her that you were to have
travelled with the Princess Boriskoff. That will impress
her. She would kiss the boot of a Princess. Afterward,
come up and tell me how you got on with ' Her Ladyship.' ''
39
THE MOTOR MAID
I WM stupid to be nervous, „d told in™» so- but «
I knocW .t the door of the «rite „„^ JklUo"
;^ «d other Royalties, my heart was ^li^Z:
mrfective jumps in my breast. Kite -as my old nu,i
used to say - "a frog with three legs." ^ "^
Come inl" called a voice with shaip, jagged edees
I opened 4e door. I„ a private diX^'as
4ffe.»t « the personaUty of one woman f^m »IeT
sat Lady Tumour. She faced me as I entered TlT j
a good look a. her. before casting IZ^'l^^.
oo».po^ng njy countenance to the ilf^bne^'J^^,^
She was enthroned on a sofa. One could hardly say
^, there w« so much of her. and it was all arr^d «
perfectly as .f she were about to be photog»p^N^
Srr ""°»"',""»'y »"«»« do™, with n^tt^objl
ttan to be comfortable, would curve the tail of her »C
round m front of her Uke a sickle; or have iu^fr
pomtof one shoe daintilypoiscd on a f;,loUr fesot
cu*.ons at exactly the right angle behind Cb^To
I dared not behevc that she had posed for me I
Zuld .^" '" ^^ Kilmar„y;':nd thl Talone
should see the picture was a bad beginning.
th,, r ° 1;' ^ "'"■' • "''"■«" ™n ^«ll tell people
-•ess. She wU be a beauty as well, or at all costs she
I'
V.
40 THE MOTOR MAID
will be looked at. To that end are her eyebrows and
lashes black as jet, her undulated hair crimson, her Ups
a brighter shade of the same colour and her skin of
magnolia pallor, Uke the heroines of tue novels which are
sure to be her favourites. Once, she must have been
handsome, a hollyhock queen of a kitchen-gaiden king-
dom; but she would be far more attractive now if only she
had "abdicated," as nice middle-aged women say in
France.
Her dress was the very latest dream of a neurotic Parisian
modiste, and would have been seductive on a slender giri.
On her — well, at least she would have her wish in it — she
would not pass unnoticed I
She looked surprised at sight of me, and I saw she
did n't realize that I was the expected candidate.
"Lady Kilmamy could n't come," I began to explain,
and "
"Ohl" she cut me short. "So you are the young
person she is recommending as a maid."
I corrected Miss Paget when she called me a "young
woman," but times have changed since then, and in future
I must humbly consent to be a young person, or even a
creature.
For a minute I forgot, and almost sat down. It would
have been the end of me if I hadl Luckily I remembered
What I was, and stood before my mistress, trying to look
like Patience on a monument with butter in her mouth
which must n't be allowed to melt.
"What is your name?" began the catechism (and the
word was "nime," according to Lady Tumour).
"N or M," nearly slipped out of my mouth, but I
THE MOTOR MAID 4,
put Satan with all his mischief h^hir,A ^
that I was Lys d'Ange^ ^ '""' *"^ *°^^«^
Oh, the surname doesn'^ m.^^ a
F«nch girl, I shall call ;:u\; ^^^J^^ ^- '- a
always done." ^ ^ ^* °*'°®- I* s
waf i^er'^tolcfr " *"''*'^' ^ '^ «™'' *^t - d 'Ange'y
was ever told his name did n't matterl) ^'^
iTou seem to speak English very well for « ir u
woman?" (Thi« oi,„^„* -.t ^ ^°' * French
UT^ . *'™°^* ^th suspicion.)
My mother was American."
"How extraordinary!"
1 let her hear it.
;;H'naI It seems well enough. Paris?"
ir&ns, madame."
If mad -if your ladyship wishes."
(Thank heaven for a sense of humourl Mv on. «nU
des.,e wa. to laugh. Without that bllinTrh m
have yearned to slap her.) messing, I should
"V^Tiat references have vou ant t^
situation?" ^ ^''* '"*" ^ow last
;;i have never been in service before - my ladv "
My word That 's haH w ^ ^'
xnai s bad. However, you 're on the
J
I 'i
''-:t
42 THE MOTOR MAID
spot, and Lady Kilmarny recommends you. The poor
Princess was going to try you, it seems. I should think
she would n't have given much for a maid without any
experience."
"I was to have had two thousand francs a year as the
Princess's com — if the Princess was satisfied."
"Preposterous I I don't believe a word of it. Why,
what can you do f Can you dress hair? Can you make'
a blouse?"
"I did my mother's hair, and sometimes my cousin's."
"Your mother! Your cousin I I'm talking of a
lidy."
My sense of humour did almost fail me just then.
But I caught hold of it by the tail just as it was darting
out of the window, spitting and scratching like a cross
cat.
It was remembering Monsieur Charretier that brought
me to my bearings. "I think your ladyship would be
satisfied," I said. " And I make all my own dresses."
"That one you 've got on ? -- which is most unsuitable
for a maid, I may tell you, and I should never permit it."
"This one I have on, also."
"I thought maybe it had been a present. Well, it 's
something that you speak both English and French
passably well. I '11 try you on Lady Kilmamy's recom-
mendation, if you want to come to me for fifty francs a
month. I won't give more to an amateur."
I thought hard for a minute. Lady Kilmarny had
said it would not be many weeks before the Tumours
went to England. There, if Miss Paget (who seemed
extremely nice by contrast and in retrospect) were still
i| i.
THE MOTOR MAID «
Of the same mind I mi^k* « j
l«.k further. &,?^-^ZT' "u ™'^'' ^ ■«
fmnc. «,d would do myt^ l"'"'^ f"* '^ «"?
She did not exD.^ v!!^„^ P'"* ■*' '"'^'hip.
begta work tLT^„^^" " S?*"^- "Vou c«
to send a^y „y ^S vitX 7r .™, '""'««'
out one." (This „„ dXh,^?7^ ^' ""* ' ■» *« "ith-
keptlodge^foryeT^thfifl'""" • "''''^" *•■» '»<'
"oxrf "genenJ-ir-B ,, '^'^P"^P">' "smudgy.
Bke . M..,J„ j^„^3f;! — «° Oaunting .bout,
allowed. few h„u„.^trt ""^' " ^ «»
•"d th.t they ^1^.^ *°J°* "P"- "»«>. "d did n't
darly loved. ^^ "^ """"ing 'or one
"You can have till six o'clock fn* " • -j t ^
tlK Prince™ taken somettin. f ''"''*.y«" «»°> ' Had
"d was inwardly thankfu, th'^.t ^Z^ ft^T "^'"•'
had not not ced me in th*. ,«o* ^"aently, the Tumours
w^-hings „n-,ht hV: tn''::;^." ""■"^- "«■«-
Sir Samuel'who paTs , fi^T?:'" P~P" "-">- "'»
leave, in our sixty-hoVse-^ "l ^^ ■™'' ""'""■'■« "« •
»«epson joins us -^1^,'^ ^ ^"^^f^- &> Samuel's
fans or perhaps before and tntveU
44 THE MOTOR MAID
on with us. He is staying now with some French people
of very high title, who live in a ch&teau. You will sit
on the front seat with the chauffeur."
This was a blow I I had n't thought of the chauffeur.
"But, thought I, chauffeur or no chauffeur, it 's too late
now for retreat."
TiJk of Prometheus with his vulture, the Spartan
boy with his decently concealed wolf I What of Lys
d'Angely with an English chauffeur in her pocket f
m
i
CHAPTER V
with him at hoteb, and aU that r>»~. i. ***
band and I we« L^^inlL '^ ""^ "^ '"*
«iown near Uttl. inn^^^Jl^-'L'^'' »«d to break
feur atthe same tauL^.r ■!. *^ *" ^^ » '*«"'-
long one (^ I ^* r*.^"* *«« ™ only ,,„,
but I ten y^ i^-^i^^ ':^rir' "i:?'
to bear it?" «P «« a warning. Are you able
I said that I, too, could shut my eyes.
You can't make a habit of doini? so And h. ^
want to put his arm m„^A ^ . ° "® ™*7
under the cWnT*^?? ^*'"' ''*^''' «' ^^"^k you
« THE MOTOR MAID
mw. Some, they say, an most respecUble. I love
common people when they 're nice, and give up quite
pleasantly to being common; and of coune Irish ones
are too delightful. But you can't hope for an Irish
chauffeur. I hear they don't exist. They 're all French
or German r- English. Let us hope this one may be the
father of a family." J ^
It was well enough to be told to hope; and Lady
Kilmamy meant to be kind, but what she said made me
" creep " whenever I thought of the chauffeur.
She advised me not to take my meals with the maids
and valets at the Majestic Palace, because a change, so
sudden and Cinderella-like, after lunching in the restau-
rant, would cause disagreeable talk in the hotel. As my
Hving in future would be at the charge of the Tumours, I
might afford myself a few indulgences to begin with, she
argued; and deciding that she was right, I made up my
mind to have my remaining meals served in my own room.
I hastily stripped a black frock of its trimming, dressed
my hair more simply even than usual, parted down the
middle, and altogether strove to achieve the air of a
femme de chambre bom, not made. But I 'm bound
to chronicle the fact for my own future reference (when
some day I shall laugh at thi- idventure) that the effect
though restful to the ay^r ,ested the stage fenme de
chamhre rather than the so'-.- reality one sees in every-
day life. However, I was conscious of having done my
best, a state of mind which always produces a cool,
strawberries-andKsream feeling in the soul; and thus
supported I tripped (yes, I did trip!) downstairs to adom
Lady Tumour for dinner.
il J r ;
THE MOTOR MAID „
..?" *»' WM open between her b«boom uul tb.
Wkuig about the .m«d of the rtep«m wW „Zr
I ~on gfc»«J ,„n> thei, «.nve,S.1rHerrt
ittmed Herbert, ««| are familiariy known to tbow whom
they may concern a. "Bertie." «no»ewBom
Piewntly, her ladyship came into the bedroom. «A
J«d, « . qneen might «y to her ti»woman,^ ^
for surah, I thinlt d«, would have lilced to call me it
en.W.'^"™''."'"'"*'"^' '»•■"«<' upon . »id-
r.^vtbS'tbfi'trut'1'rhr ff
lower middle class. I ZZT^^^^l "' '^
door, «.d would that h^tfi^'rj^ Z. '' '"' *«
»lea« from her Zic^ ^^ l»d been „ easy to
She had not one hook, but many; and they were all
" ordered, I fearod it would be necessanr u> mK
pour her out of the gown she had on. ^ "''
WhUe I wrestled, silent and red faced with » h^i
.';;::L"ifth*:i"'"^»-^'°'-^'^^' -^^
of ^m^- TuT; •*°°' ^'^ ^''.^'"'' """■■'"""■' -"'k"
way, quite different from his wife's way _ or Monsieur
h« round head, blue eyes, twinkling with a mild, yet
M'
« THE MOTOR MAID
Jhrewd expression (which might be meny if encou««d
Sodded *^ * **^' '**'"*^°« ^^ '^'** '^^^
''What young lady have we here ?" he inquiied.
uy,, * ^""« ^'^y ** »^^'" explained his wife sharply.
"My new French maid." «»T«y.
"I beg your pardon, I'm sure." said Sir Samuel.
ough It was n't quite clear whether it was my fc mve-
pt , or that of his spouse he craved, for his mistate in
3Ui posing me to be a "young lady."
What's her name?" he wanted to know, evidently
aPi -ovmg of me, if not as a m«d, at least as a human
^ ' X- .tlung ridiculous in French that sounds Uke
Lu. sniffed her ladyship. " But I shall call her Eliac.
Aho . hall expect her to stop dyeing her hair."
But, madame, I do not dye itl" J exclaimed.
Don t tell me. I know dyed hair when I see it"
(She ought to, having experience enough with her
own I)
"Nature is the dyer, then," I ventured to persist,
piqued to self-defence by the certainty that her object
was to strip me of my wicked mask before her husband.
I m not used to being contradicted by my servants "
her ladyship reminded me.
"My dear, do let the poor giri know whether she
dyes her hair or not." Sir Samuel pleaded for me with
more kindness than discretion. "I'm sure she speaks
beautiful English." ^
"As if that had anything to do with itl She may as
well miderstand, to begin with, that I won't put up with
"Whilelwrr.fled . . mth a bodice as snug as the
head of a drum, ih, lord of ufl it contained
appeared in the doorway *'
m
THE MOTOR MAID ^
impudence and answering back. H.- .u
to me. ^'^ ""stnicfons proopdy ^^^
and swallowed n,, Mn^ ^.t^™'^ '«"-»')
have to swallow my hai, ^d'e^I^^b^^, ^T "?"
her service. If they stick in k .u '"n" to stop in
"iU dischaije n^%t . le! J^™"*' ^ '"PP"* ^
spots, «,d Tgiri will not JrT' °™"* <*^ his
■ashes _whenV^;lX~'°" °! "^.'"^ ""
with Nature's work. •» he fiurij, well satisfied
CHAPTER VI
PAMELA'S mother-in-law, la ConUesse dominere,
wears a lovely, fluffy white thing over her own
diminishing front hair, which I once heard her
describe, when struggling to speak English, as her "com-
bination." Pam and I laughed nearly to extinction, but I
did n't laugh this morning when I was obliged to help
Lady Tumour put on hers.
They say an emperor is no hero to his valet, and neither
can an empress be a heroine to her maid when she bursts
for the first time upon that humble creature's sight,
without her transformation.
It did make an unbelievable difference with her lady-
ship; and it must have been a blow to poor Sir Samuel,
after all his years of hopeless love for a fond gazelle,
when at last he made that gazelle his own, and saw it
running about its bedroom with all its copper-colour^^d
"ondulations" naively lying on its dressing-table.
Poor Miss Paget's false front was one of those frank,
self-respecting old things one might have allowed one's
grandmother to wear, just as she would wear a cap; but
a transformation — well, one has perhaps believed in it,
if one has not the eye of a lynx, and the disillusion is
awful.
Of course, a lady's-maid is not a human being, and
what it is thinking matters no more than what thinks
50
THE MOTOR MAID
a chair when sat upon; so I don't suppose
51
"her
i-j u* »» . ' — ' * """ ' suppose "her
I«Jy*.p" ««d ten centime, for .he imp,Si ^
»«er my moming entrance.
^ my hair waves natumlly, I V scarcely more than
. b«w,ng acquaintance with a curUng-iron; butTuckiV
for n« I always did Cousin Catherinef whe; she wZJ
^Itll. •^"""' " *' ''"= "'"' «h-'"8'' »y hands
tieobled witi. ne^ousness, I not only "ondula J" uTy
Tumours transformation without burning i, up, but
I added It to her own locks in a mamier so deft as to ^X
me want to applaud myself.
Even she could find no fault. The effect was twice
«cA^»d becoming as that of yesterday. She looW
CT',!" t""^' '" '*'"8 *« »«•"* <*"« that she
burns to be. I saw various emotions working in her miS
^dattributed her silence on the subject of^myl^™^'
d^ (unch^ged despite her oriers) to the su^T,::
n»tangw,thhertoil... In her eyes, I began to take o"
ir.,". "d^""" "•* '" "^ "^'^ *^ "way on the
When she was dressed and p«nted to represent a
lady motons ," ,t was my business to pack no? only for
her but for Sir Samuel, who is the sort of man to t
miserable under the domination of a valet. There were
a round dozen of tnmks. which had to be sent on by rait
and Uwre was also luggage for the automobile; such
h.^ ^^?'' ""' '^■*P''"« ^" complexion) tha?
«»as really a ple«ure to pack it. As for the poor motor
i-d. It was broken to her that she must, figuratively
f
rl;
® THE MOTOR MAID
speaking, Uve in a bag during the tour, and that bag
must have a place under her feet as she sat beside the
driver. It might make her as uncomfortable as it liked,
but whatever it did, it must on no account interfere with
the chauffeur.
We were supposed to start at ten, but a woman of Lady
Tumour's type doesn't think she's making herself of
enough importance unless she keeps people waiting.
She changed her mind three times about her veil, and
had her dressing-bag (a gorgeous affair, beside which
mine is a mere nutshell) reopened at the last minute to
get out different hatpins.
It was half-past ten when the luggage for the auto-
mobile was ready to be taken away, and having helped
my mistress into her motoring coat, I left her saying
farewell to some hotel acquaintances she had scraped
up, and went out to put her ladyship's rugs into the car.
I had not seen it yet, nor the dreaded chauffeur, my
galley-companion; but as the front door opened, vaUa
both; the car drawn up at the hotel entrance, the
chauffeur dangling from its roof.
Never did I see anything in the way of an automobile
so large, so azure, so magnificent, so shiny as to varnish,
so dazzling as to brass and crystal.
Perhaps the windows aren't really crystal, but they
were all bevelly and glittering in the sunshine, and seemed
to run round the car from back to front, giving the effect
of a Cinderella Coach fitted on to a motor. Never was
paint so blue, never was crest on carriage panel so large
and so like a vague, over-ripe tomato. Never was a
chauffeur so long, so slim, so smart, so leathery.
THE MOTOR MAID 53
He was dangUng not because he fancied himself as a
tassel, but because he was teaching some last piece of
lu^age to know its place on the roof it was shaped
to fit. *^
"Thank goodness, at least he 's not fat, and won't
take up much room," I thought, as I stood looking at
the back of his black head.
Then he jumped down, and turned round. We gave
T f'u'^ ^l*"**' ""^ ^^ ~"'^ "°* *»«'P lowing that
I must be her ladyship's maid, by the way I was loaded
with rugs, hke a beast of burden. Of my face he could
see htt e, as I had on a thick motor-veil with a small
triangular talc window, which Lady Kilmamy had
given me as a present when I bade her good-bye. I had
the advantage of him, therefore, in the staring contest,
because his goggles were pushed up on the top of his
cap with an elastic, somewhat as Miss Paget's spectacles
had been caught in her false front.
His glance said: "Female thing, I've got to be bothered
by having you squashed into the seat beside me. You 'd
better not be chatty with the man at the wheel, for if you
are, I shall have to teach you motor manners."
My glance, I sincerely hoped, said nothing, for I
humedly shut it oflF lest it should say too much, the
astomshed thought in my mind being: "Why, Leather
Person, you look exactly like a gentleman I You have
the air of being the master, and Sir Samuel your
servant." '
He really was a surprise, especially after Lady
Kilmamy s warning. Still, I at once began to tell
myself that chauflFeurs must have intelligent faces. As
n
54 THE MOTOR MAID
for this one's clear features, good gray eyes, brown skin,
wid well-made figure, they were nothing miraculous,
since It IS admitted that even a lower grade of beings
grooms and footmen, are generally chosen as ornaments'
to the estabhshments they adorn. Why shouldn't a
chauffeur be picked out from among his fellows to do
credit to a fine, sixty-horse-power blue motornjar?
Besides, a young man who can't look rather handsome
in a chauffeur's cap and neat leather coat and leggings
might as well go and hang himself.
The Leather Person opened the door of the car for me
that I might put in the rugs. I murmured "thank you"'
and he bowed. No sooner had I arranged my affairs
and slipped the scent-bottle and bottle of salts, newly
filled, into a dainty Uttle case under the window, when
Lady Tumour and Sir Samuel appeared.
I have met few, if any, queens in daily Ufe, but I 'm
almost sure that the Queen of England, for instance,
would n t consider it beneath her dignity to take some
notice of her chauffeur's existence if she were starting on
a motor tour. Lady Tumour was miles above it, how-
ever. So far as she was concerned, one would have
thought that the car ran itself; that at sight of her and
Sir Samuel, the arbiters of its destiny, its heart began
to beat, its body to tremble with delight at the honour
in store for it.
"Tell him to shut the windows," said her ladyship
when she was settled in her place. "Does he think
I 'm going to travel on a day like this with all the wind
on the Riviera blowing my head off?"
The imperial order was passed on to "him," who was
THE MOTOR MAID 55
addressed as Bane, or Dane, or something of that ilk-
and I was sorry for poor Sir Samuel, whose face showed
how httle he enjoyed the prospect of being cooped up in
a glass box. » r r
"A day like this" meant that there was a wind which
no one under fifty had any business to know came out of
the eMt, for it arrived from a sky blue as a vast, inverted
cup of turquoise. The sea was a cup, too; a cup of gold
gh termg where the Esterel mountains rimmed it, and
full to the frothing brim of blue spilt by the sky
Perhaps there was a hint of keenness in the breeze,
and the palms in the hotel garden were whispering to
each other about it. while they rocked the roses tangled
among their fans; yet it seemed to me that the whispera
were not of complaint, but of joy -joy of life, joy of
beauty, and joy of the spring. The air smelled of a
thousand flowers, this air that Lady Tumour shunned
as If It were poison, and brought me a sense of happiness
and adventure fresh as the morning. I knew I had no
right to the feeling, because this wasn't my adventure
I was only in it on sufferance, to oil the wheels of it so
to speak, for my betters; yet golden joy ran through
all my veins as gaily, as generously, as if I were a princess
instead of a lady's-maid. - •
Why on earth I was happy, I did n't know, for it was
perfectly clear that I was going to have a horrid time-
but I pitied everybody who was n't young, and starting
off on a motor tour, even if on fifty francs" a month "all
found."
I pitied Lady Tumour because she was herself; I
pUied Su- Samuel because he was married to her; I
M THE MOTOR MAID
pitied the p«ple i„ the big hotel, who »«,i ihei, ,fc^
noon, «rf .«„tog, p,,yi^ b^ ^.^»PJ ^^^
kn^fclly ^, ,tile U„„ w.. . ,„M ,y„~
ri»'o':"L[™"'"""^"'»'^"P'««'«^
He didn't look pwficuUrly «,„y for hin»eU „ he
?»""f"?"°'y right Iw«;dloutofrL„d
1» hud the «r of having fo^,„„ ,„ .bout nT « U
steemi .^y f„„ a«, hotel down the floweXX^
avenue which led to the street noweMwrteied
"Anyhow " wjd I to myself, behtod my little three-
co^red flc window, "whatever his fauIts^yT^
There we Mt, side by side, shut away from our pastore
and m^te« by a bamer of gh«, in flit state oTlStS
myself. Yet I found my fliought, coming bade to fl«
mn evety now and fl»n, wondering if hi nice bro™
profile were a mere ludg, accident, or if he were reaZ
mteUjgen «,d well educated beyond his station fl
was dehcously restful at fl„t to sit there, seeing bTatifu
thmp as we flashed by, able to enjoy them in ,^a"
out havmg to make «,nve,^tion, L tf,e ordL^Z^
;Kfe must w.th &e oriinar)r jeune monsieur. ^ '
moi^fer- "■ ""' ^°" ''"" "" "otomobilism, made-
-'?"i' ^V'i '"™ *' automobilism. And you?"
I also. (Hang it, what shaU I say to her n«t 7)
THE MOTOR MAID 87
"And the dust. It does not too much annoy you?"
(Oh, botlwr, I do wish he 'd let me alone!)
"No, monsieur. Because there are compensations.
The sceneiy, is it not?"
"And for me your society." (What a litUe idiot
she b!)
And so on. And so on. Oh yes, there were con-
soktions in being a motor maid, sitting as far away as
possible from a cross-looking if rather handsome chauf-
feur, who would want to bite her if she tried to do the
"society act."
But after a while, when we 'd spun past the charming
villas and attractive shops of Cannes (which looks so
deceitfully sylvan, and is one of the gayest watering-places
in the world) silence began to be a burden.
It is such a nice motor car, and I did want to ask
intelligent questions about it!
I was almost sure they would be intelligent, because
already I know several things about automobiles. The
Milyaines have n't got one, but most of their friends in
Paris have, and though I 've never been on a long tour
before, I 've done some running about. When one knows
things, especially when one's a girl — a really well-
regulated, normal girl — one does like to let other people
know that one knows them. It's all well enough to
cram yourself full to bursting with interesting facts
which it gives you a vast amount of trouble to learn,
just out of respect for your own soul; and there 's a great
deal m that point of view, in one's noblest moments;
but one's noblest moments are like bubbles, radiant
while they last, then going pop! quite to one's own surprise.
i
I I
h i
\fm
» THE MOTOR MAID
leaving one all flat, and nothing to show for the laie
bubble except a little commonplace soap.
Well, I am like that, and when I 'm not noblj bubbling
I love to say what I 'm thinking to somebody who will
understand, instead of feeding on myself.
It really was a waste of good material to see all that
lovely sceneiy sUpping by like a panorama, and to be
having quite heavenly thoughts about it, which must slip
away too, and be l<»st for ever. I got to the pass when
it would have been a relief to be asked if "this were my
firet visit to the Riviera;" because I could hastily have
said "Yes," and then broken out with a volley of
impressions.
Seeing beautiful things when you travel by rail con-
sists mostly on getting half a glimpse, beginning to exclaim,
"Oh, look there!" then plunging into the black gulf of a
tunnel, and not coming out again until after the best
bit has carefully disappeared behind an uninteresting,
fat-bodied mountnin. But travelling by motor-carl
Oh, the difference! One sees, one feels; one is never,
never bored, or impatient to arrive anywhere. One
would enjoy being Uke the famous brook, and "go on
forever."
Other automobiles were ahead of us, other cars were
behind us, in the procession of Nomads leaving the South
for the North, but there had been rain in the night, so that
the wind carried little dust. My spirit sang when we
had left the long, cool avenue lined with the great silver-
trunked plane trees (which seemed always, even in sun-
shine, to be dappled with moonlight) and dashed toward
the barrier of the Esterels that flung itself across our
THE MOTOR MAID 59
p*th. The big blue car bounded up the steep road
laughing and purring. Uke some huge creature of the
desert escaped from a cage, regaining its freedom. But
every time we neared a curve it was considerate enough
to slow down, just enough to swing round with measured
rhythm, smooth as the rocking of a child's cradle
Perhaps, thought I. the chauffeur was n't cross, but
only concentrated. If I had to drive a powerful, untamed
car hke this, up and down roads like that. I should cer-
tainly get motor^jar face, a kind of inscrutable, frozen
mask that not all the cold cream in the world could
ever melt.
I wondered if he resorted to cold cream, and before I
knew what I was doing. I found myself staring at the
statuesque brown profile through my talc triangle.
Evidently animal magnetism can leak through talc
for suddenly the chauffeur glanced sharply round at me,'
as if I had called him. "Did you speak ?" he asked.
•Dear me. no, I should n't have dared." I hurried to
assure him. Again he transferred his attention from
the road to me. though only a fraction, and for only the
fraction of a second. I felt that he saw me as an eagle
on the wing might see a fly on a boulder toward which he
was steenng between intervening clouds.
" Why should n't you dare ?" he wanted to know.
"One doesn't usually speak to lion-tamers while
they re engaged in taming," I murmured, quite sur-
pnsed at my audacity and the sound of my own . oice
The chauffeur laughed. "Oh!" he said.
"Or to captains of ocean liners on the bridge in thick
wgs, I went on with my illustrations.
tty
THE MOTOR MAID
'What do you know about lioo-tamen and captains
on ocean linen?" he inquired.
"Nothing. But I imagine. I 'm always doing a lot
of imagining."
"Do you think you will while you're with Lady
Tumour?"
"She hasn't engaged my brain, only my hands and
feet"
"And your time."
"Oh, thank goodness it does n't take time to imagine.
I can imagine all the most glorious things in heaven and
earth in the time it takes you to put your car at the next
comer."
He looked at me longer, though the comer seemed
dangerously near — to an amateur. "I see you've
leamed the true secret of living," said he.
"Havel? I did n't know."
"Well, you have. You may take it from me. I'm
a good deal older than you are."
"Oh, of course, all really polite men are older than the
women they 're with."
"Even chauffeurs?"
It was my turn to laugh now. "A chauffeur with a
lady'»>maid."
"You seem an odd sort of lady's-maid."
"I begin to think you 're an odd sort of chauffeur."
"Why?"
"Well — " I hesitated, though I knew why, perfectly.
"Are n't you rather abmpt in your questions? Suppose
we change the subject. You seem to have tamed this
tiger until it obeys you like a kitten."
THE MOTOR MAID §i
*i..'7^* '" ^^\ ^ ^ °y '''«*' '*»'• B"* ^^y do you
think I man odd sort of chauffeur?"
"For that matter, then, why do you thmk I 'm an odd
lady's-maid?"
"As to that, probably I 'm no judge. I never talked
to one except my mother's, and she — was n't at all
hke you."
"Well, that proves my point. The very fact that
your mother had a maid, shows you 're an odd sort
of chauffeur.'*
"OhI You mean because I wasn't always 'what I
seem, and that kind of FamUy Herald thing? Do
you think it odd that a chauffeur should be by way of
being a gentleman? Why, nowadays the woods and
the story.bof,k3 are full of us. But things are made
pleasanter for us in !)ooks than in real life. Out of books
people fight sJiy of us. A -shuwie' with the disadvantage
of having been to a public school, or handicapped by^t
dropping his H's, must knock something off his screw."
"Are you really in earnest, or are you jokI;ig?" I
"Half and half, perhaps. Anyway, it isn'i ., ;.,,.
ticularly agreeable position — if that's nnt t-v, J ; • a
word for it I envy you your imagination, n wh h n;..
can shut yourself up in a kind of armour ir^:.^ ^he
slings and arrows of outrageous fortune."
"You would n't envy me if you had to do Lady Tur-
nout's hair," I sighed.
The chauffeur laughed out aloud. "Heaven forbidl"
he exclaimed.
"I 'm sure Sir Samuel would forbid, anyhow," said I.
tr
«2 THE MOTOR MAID
"Do you know, I don't think this trip's gqins to be
so bad?" said he.
"Neither do I," I munnumi in my veil.
We both laughed a good deal then. But luckily the
glass was expensively thick, and the car was singing.
"What are you laughing at?" I asked.
"Something that it takes a little sense of humour to see,
when you 've been down on your luck," said he.
"A sense of humour was the only thing my ancestors
left me," said I. "I don't wonder you laugh. It really
is quaintly funny."
"Do you think we 're laughing at the same thing?"
"I 'm almost sure of it."
"Do tell me your part, and let 's compare notes."
• "Well, it 's something that nobody but us in this car
— unless it's the car itself — knows."
"Then it is the same thing. They haven't an idea
of it, and would n't believe it if anyone told them. Yes,
it is funny."
"About their not being "
"While you "
"And you "
"Thanks. A lady "
"A gentleman "
' "And the only ones on board "
"Are the two servants 1"
"As long as they don't notice "
"And we dol"
"Perhaps we may get some fun out of it ?"
"Extra — outside our wages. Would it be called a
'perquisite'?"
THE MOTOR MAID 68
"If so, I 'm sure we deserve it."
I sighed, thinking of her ladyship's transformation,
and lacing up her boots. "Well, there 's a lot to make
up for."
And he gave me another look — a very nice look,
although he could see nothing f me but eyes and one
third of a nose. "If I can ever at all help to make up,
in the smallest way, you must let me try," he said.
I ceased to think that his profile was cross, or even
stem.
I was glad that the chauffeur and I were in the same
box — I mean, the same car.
it*.
CHAPTER VII
A LL the same, I wondered a great deal how he
J~\ came there, and I hoped that he was won-
-*- -»• dering the same sort of thing about me.
In fact, I laid myself out to produce such a result.
That is to say, I took some pains to show myself as
little Uke the common or parlour lady's-maid as possible.
I never took so much pains to impress any human
bemg, male or (far less) female, as I took to impress
that mere chauffeur — the very chauffeur I'd been
lying awake at night dreading as the most objectionable
feature in my new life.
All the nice things I 'd thought of by the way, before we
mtroduced ourselves to each other, I trotted out (at least,
as many as I had presence of mind to remember); and
though I 'm afraid he did n't pay me the compUment of
trying to "brill" in return, I told myself that it was not
because he did n't think me worth briUing for, but because
he 's English. It never seems to occur to an EngUshman
to "show off." I believe if Sir Samuel Tumour's chauf-
feur, Mr. What's-his-name, knew twenty-seven knguages,
he could be silent in all of them.
He did let me play the car's musical siren, though;
a fascinating bugbear, supposed to warn children, chick-
ens, and other light-minded animals that something
important is coming, and they 'd better look aUve. It
M
es
THE MOTOR MAID _
^ t^o tunes, one g«ve, one gay. I suppose we would
use the grave one if the creature had n't looked aUve ?
AJthough he did n't say much, the chauffeur (or "shuv-
rLJ^aJ" ^'"^""y °»°»^« himself) knew all about
i!. * ;^*""'! *"^ ^"P*"* ^« Besse-knew more
about them than I, also their escapades on tZ
road over the Esterels, and in the mountain fastnesses,
when highw-aymen were as fashionable as motoiw.a«
are now^ I d forgottea that it was this part of the world
tl^uJ^^'^f '^'' ^'"'^ "^ f*°»«' »°d was quite
thnlled to hear that the ghost of De Besse is supposi to
keep on, •• . permanent residence, his old shelter cave
near the summit of strangely shaped Mont Vinaigre.
I m sure, though even if we'd passed his pitch at
midnight instead of midday, he wouldn't have dared
pop out and ay "Stand and deliverl" to a sixty-horse-
power Aigle. ^ ""«c-
I Jm«t wirfKd it ™e night, « „, „„p«, ^
^T^JT- °"l T ^""^ ''*"™ *<» deergoiges,
^^Znr*^"*' ^ °'" P-^cipic^, for ae
rr^uT -^ ^° °'°" "'•"»• "^ mysterious.
I couU uMg,„e that the toti^ticUy fanned «cfa which
o^ above us or stood »n«ed far below would have
looked by moonhght like statues and busts of Titans
», T'l Y ^°™' ^'" " '^ ^'^ '<" »"«'» imagin-
ation to do «,e best of which it feels capable whenTne
IS dying for lunch.
Even the old "Murder Inn," which my companion
oWigmgly pointed out, did n't give me the thrill it ought
because time was getting on when we flew past it, Ld
m THE MOTOR MAID
I would have W^n capable of eating vulgar bread and
cheese under its wickedly historic roof if I had been
invited.
"Do you suppose they know anything about the road
and its history?" I asked the chauffeur, with a slight
gesture of my swathed head toward the solid wall of
glass which was our background.
"They? Certainly not, and don't want to know," he
answered with an air of assurance.
"Why do they go about in motors then," I wondered,
"if they don't take interest in things they pass?"
"You must imderstand as well as I do why this sort of
person goes about in motors," said he. "They go
because other people go — because it 's the thing. The
*other people' whom they slavishly imitate may really like
the exhilaration, the ozone, the sight-seeing, or all three;
but to this type the only part that matters is letting it be
seen that they 've got a handsome car, and being able
to say "We 've just come from the Riviera in our
sixty-horse-power motoivcar. 'Hiey *d always mention
the power."
"Lady Tumour did, even to me," I remembered.
"But is Sir Samuel like that?"
"No, to do him justice, he is n't, poor man. But his
wile is his Juggernaut. I believe he enjoys lying under
her wheels, or thinks he does — which is the same
thing."
" Have'you been with them long ?" I dared to inquire.
"Only a few days. I brought the car down for them
from Paris, though not this way — a shorter one. We 're
new brooms, the car and I."
Ill
m
"I
THE MOTOR MAID
"All their brooms seem to be new," I reflected,
wonder what the stepson is like?"
"Ucki^ it doesn't matter much to me." said the
chauffeur mdifferently.
"Nor to me. But his name's Herbert."
"His surname?"
"I don't know. There 's a Herbert lurking somewhere.
It always suggests to me oily hair parted in the middle and
smeared down on each side of a low, narrow forehead.
Could you know a 'Bertie'?"
" I did once, and never want to again. He was a swine
and a snob. Hope you never came across the com-
bmution?
JaaTI *^ "T'':.^'*"""' ^^^"gleft the mountain
world behmd, a formidable line of nobly planned arches
began stndmg along beside us, through the sun-bright
d^lftT^r "" ' ""* •" *'^ ^^"* «^"- ^^-
Instead of discussing such little things as the Tumours
and their Bert,e, we began to talk of Phcenidans, Ligur-
.ans. and of Romans; of Pliny, who had a beloved frTnd
a Fr^jus; and all the while to breathe in the perfume
of a land over which a vast tidal wave of balsamic pines
nad swept. *^
Fr^jus we were not to see now: that was for the dim
future, after lunch; but we turned to the left off the main
road, and ran on until we saw. bathed in pines, deliriously
deluged and drowned in pines, the wliite glimmer of
classiclooking villas, lliese meant Valescure. said the
chauffeur; and the Grand Hotel - not classic looking, but
pretty in its terraced garden - meant luncheon.
<»
THE MOTOR MAID
The car drew up before the door, according to order,
or rather, according to hypnotic suggestion; for it seems
that it is the chauffeur who alone knows anything of the
way, and who, while appearing to be non-committal, is
virtually planning the tour. "Valescure might bea good
stopping-place for lunch," he had murmured, an eye on
the road map over which his head bent with Sir Samuel's.
^' Very beautiful — rather exclusive. You may remember
Mr. Chamberlain stopped there."
The exclusiveness and the Chamberlain-ness decided
Lady Tumour, behind Sir Samuel's shoulder (so the
chauffeur told me); consequently, here we were — and
not at St. Raphael, which would have seemed the more
obvious place to stop.
I say "we," but Lady Tumour would have been sur-
prised to hear that her maid dared count herself and a
chauffeur in the programme. Creatures like us must be
fed, just as you pour petrol into the tanks of a motor,
or stoke a furnace with coals, because otherwise our
mechanism would n't go, and that would be awkward
when we were wanted.
The chauffeur opened the door of the car as if he had
been bom to open motor-car doors, and Lady Tumour
allowed herself to be helped out by her husband. Her
jewel-bag clutched in her hand (she doesn't know me
well enough yet to tmst me with it, and hasn't had
bagsful of jewels for long), she passed her two servants
without expending a look on them. Sir Samuel followed,
telling his chauffeur to have the automobile ready at the
door again in an hour and a quarter; and we two Worms
were left to our own resources.
THE MOTOR MAID e»
1 u ««ke the fur rugs inside -you 're not to bother
.H.yj^b,g enough to ,w».p you «,ti„,y. l^^n
to'ii^^ofLl;:;" ^ «'-'«> "-'•-ly. "What is
repM. I 'bought you said you we« hungry."
oo 1 am, starring. But "
"Wellf"
I' Are n't you going to have a proper lunch t"
A sandwoh and a piece of cheese will do for me
because there are one or two Kttle things to tinker up o!^
fthl'u "■ *"""' '"'' ' 1""^ " "'' 'on«- I think
I shaU bnng my grub out of doors, and — But",
anything the matter?"
"I can't go in and have lunch alone. I simply can't "
I confessed to the young man whose society I had fntendtl
irtrfir:;i'er'""- -^-^'^-^'^^-^
A look of comprehension flashed over his face.
Yes, I see," he said. "Of course, the moment I
nr V . ""^ ^°" "*" 1"'*' «> »«" to it as
~ Jrot^iV'™"""'" ' "-"" "'-"■^-•
Ki'l'^l' /.~"'*'*^- "At the Majestic Palace Lady
r
70 THE MOTOR MAID
" By Jove, we are a strange pair! This is my first job,
too, and so far I 've been able to feed where I chose;
but that 's too good to last on tour. One must accom-
modate oneself to circumstances, and a man easily can.
But you — I know how you feel. However, it 's the
first step that costs. Do you mind much ?"
"It's the stepping in alone that costs the most,"
I said.
"Well, I 'm only too delighted if I can be of the least
use. Let the car rip! I '11 see to her afterward. Now
I 'm going to take care of you. You need it more than
she does."
What would Lady IGlmamy have said if she had
heard my deliberate encouragement of the chauffeur,
and his reckless response ? What would she have thought
if she could have seen us walking into the couriers* dining-
room, side by side, as if we had been friends for as many
years as we *d really been acquaintances for minutes,
leaving the car he was paid to cherish in his bosom
sulking alone!
That sweet lady's face, surprised and reproachful, rose
before my eyes, but I had no regrets. And instead of
trembling with apprehension when I saw that the couriers'
room was empty, I rejoiced in the prospect of lunching
alone with the redoubtable chauffeur.
It was too early for the regular feeding hour of the
pensionnaires, maids, and valr ts, aiid we sat down opposite
each other at the end of a long table. A bored young
waiter, with little to hope for in the way of pourboires,
ambled off in quest of our food. I began to unfasten
my head covering, and after a search for vark)us fugitive
THE MOTOR MAID n
With . agh of „lirf, I ,^|^ ., „ .,„.
I Mippose, unles, you .» . «,« of Sheriock Holmea of
phyaog^omy, y.u c«,'. „.p out . won,a„', falTy .
mere gl„„p^ of ey« ,h™„gh . ,ri„p.,„ y,*^, ^J^^
TtlZT^ 'r*^ "'"•^'"-^ ™" -^ '"^-
• ,1, f^ 1^ *°°*' "'»""'" •» '<»k « gift motor-veil
m the talc, but I „„,. adnut that, glad « I Z^7t
protecuon, ™„e wa» somewhat tha wo«e for cert^^
bubbles, cracb, .„d speekle,; «, whether or no Mrl^e
ZfTr """''■"' "" ^»" ■" chauffeuS^g^S h
X LSXr " ■' "'^" *^' "« -"^ '^ -^ "'
,k.?.r"*' ' '"'"' ""' ' '» »<" ««Cly plain, and
ft tU,e contrast between „y eye, and hirl .'u",'
out of the common; «,, as soon as I remembered that
he h«i n't seen me before, I guessed more or C^^t
hjs almost surtled look meant. Still, 1 suppT mos
wo M-.'T^' '»'f-F«nch, half-ALerieaS^rir"^
would have done exactly what I p„H«ded to do. ^
1 looked as innocent as a fluffy chicken when it first
s^s out o its eggshell into the'wide, ,ide w^ld an"
Ty n«e^.' ^° '"^ ' *"'' ■"'' ^ ™"''ge on the end of
"No," replied the chauffeur, instantly becoming
expressionless. "Why do you ask?" ^
^^'Z^J^'' '""" """ "-' «»' «■- was
<iin
It-
'f'-'
n
THE MOTOR MAID
"So far M I cftn see, there 's nothing wrong/' said he,
calmly, and broke a piece of bread. "Very good butter,
this, that they give to nou» aulns," he went on, in the
same tone of voice, and my respect for him increased.
(Men are really rather nice creatures, take them all
in all!)
As he had sacrificed his duty to the car for me, I sacri-
ficed my d ity to my digestion for liim, and bolted my
luncheon. Then, when released from guard duty, he
returned to his true allegiance, and I ventured to walk on
the terrace t > admire the view.
Far away it stretched, over garden, and pineland,
and fiowery meadow-spaces, to the blue, silver-sewn sea,
which to my fancy looked Homeric. Nothing modem
caught the eye to break the romance of the illusion. All
was as it might have been twenty or thirty centuries ago,
when on the Mediterranean sailed "Phoenicians, mariners
renowned, greedy merchantmen with countless gauds
in a black ship."
I had just begun to play that T was a young woman of
Tyre, taken on an adventurous excursion by an indulgent
father, when presto! Lady Tumour's voice brought me
back to the present with a jump. There *s nothing
Homeric about her I
She and Sir Samuel had finished their luncheon, and
so had several other people. There was an exodus of
well-dressed, nice-looking women from dining-room to
terrace, and conscious that I ought to have been herding
among their maids, I fled with haste and humility. What
right had I, in this sweet place divinely fit to be a rest-cure
for goddesses tired of the sodal diversions of Olympus ?
idl
THE MOTOR MAID 73
I ncuttled off to the cu, and stood ready to sem my
mistren when it should please her to be tucked under
her rugs.
Despite dehiys, the chau^eur had finished whatever
had to be done, and soon we were spinning away from
Valescure. far away, into a world of flowers.
Black cypresses soared skyward, so clean cut, so
definite, that I seemed to hear them, ciystal^hrill, Uke
the sharp notes in music, as they leaped darkly out
from a silver monotone of olives and a delicate ripple
of pearly plum or pear blojsom. Mimosas poured floods
of gold over the spring landscape, blazing violently
against the cloudless blue. Bloom of peach and apple
tree garlanded our road on either side; the way was
jewelled with roses; and acres of hyacinths stretehed
into the distance, their perfume softening the keenness
of the breeze.
"Are they going to let you pass Fr^jus without pausinir
for a single look?" I asked mournfully. But at that
instant there came a peal of the electric bell which is one
of the luxurious fittings of the car. It meant "stopl"
and we stopped.
"Aren't there some ruins here — something middle-
aged? asked Sir Samuel, meaning mediieval.
"Roman ruins, sir," replied his chauffeur, without
changing countenance.
"Are they the sort of things you ought to say you 've
seen 7
"I think most people do stop and see them, sir."
"What is your wish, my dear?" Sir Samuel gallantly
deferred to his bride. "I know you don't Uke out-of-
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74 THE MOTOR MAID
door sightseeing when it 's windy, and blows your hair
about, but "
"We might try, and if I don't like it, we can go on,"
replied Lady Tumour, patronizing the remains of Roman
greatness, since it appeared to be the "thing" for the
nobility and gentry to do.
The chauffeur obediently turned the big blue Aigle,
and let her sail into the very centre of the vast arena where
Csesar saw gladiators fight and die.
It was very noble, very inspiring, and from some shady
comer promptly emerged a quaintly picturesque old
guardian, ready to pour forth floods of historic information.
He introduced himself as a soldier who had seen fighting
in Mexico under Maximilian, therefore the better able
to appreciate and fulfil his present task. But her lady-
ship listened for awhile with lack-lustre eyes, and finally,
when dates were flying about her ears like hail, calmly
interrupted to say that she was "glad she hadn't lived
in the days when you had to go to the theatre out of
doors."
"I can't understand more than one word in twelve
that the old thing says, anyhow," she went on. "Elise
must ^ve me French lessons every day while she does
my hair. I hope she has the right accent."
" He *s saying that this amphitheatre was oncj almost
as large as the one at Ntmes, but that it would only hold
about ten thousand spectators," explained the chauffeur,
who was engaged partly for his French and knowl-
edge of France.
"It *s nonsense bothering to know that now, when the
place is tumbling to pieces," sneered her ladyship.
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THE MOTOR MAID 75
'I beg your pardon, my lady; I only thought that, as
a rule th3 best people do feel bound to know these things
^tnlrZ~\^' P""^^ deferentially, without
a twinkle in his eye, though I was pressing my lips tightly
together, and trying not to shake spasmodically. ^ ^
Oh well, go on. What else does the old boy say
then ?» groaned Lady Tumour, TncHyrisSe. ^ ^'
Mr Bane or Dane did n't dare to glance at me. With
perfect gravity he translated the guide's best bits, enlarg-
ing upon them here and there in a way which showed thft
he had independent knowledge of his own. And it was a
L^i/^" "^^* ^^-'«^-"- eventually interested
Lady Tumour. She made him tell her again how Fr^jus
started at 1^' ^'"^ the wonderful Via Aurelia. which
started at Rome never ending until it came to Aries.
Why. we ve been to Rome, and we 're going to Aries »
she exclaimed. "We can tell people we 've^been ^;r
the whole of the Via Aurelia. can't we? We needl't
mention that the automobile didn't arrive Zl ^^Ve
ttat r"' ^' ^"^"^^' y«" -y there wer. on"
theatres there, and at Antibes. like the one at Fr^jus s^
we've been making a kind of Roman pilgrirSrall
along. If we 'd only known it." ^ ^ ^
"It is considered quite the thing to do. in Roman
tt chtff ^^^r^T"'' '^' ^^^' '^y^'" --nuated
LlucLnf r; '^^.*^'"' ^^^" '^' ^"^« ^"d bridegrx>om,
^luctant but conscientious, were swimming .ound the
vast bowl of masonry, like tea-leaves floatin| in a gr^i
cup, he tumed to me. '^
H
78 THE MOTOR MAID
"Why don't you thank me?" he inquired. "I was
doing it for you. I knew you hated to miss all this, and
I saw she meant to go on, so I intervened, in the only
way I could think of, to touch her."
"If you 're ahvays as clever as that, I don't see why
this shouldn't bft our trip," I said. "That will be a
consolation." ^
"I 'n afraid you '11 often need more consolation than
that," he answered. " Lady Tumour is — as the Ameri-
cans say — a pretty 'stiff proposition.' "
"Still, if you can hypnotize her into going to all the
places, and stopping to look at all the nicest things, this
will at least be a cheap automobile tour for us both."
I laughed, but he did n't; and I was sorry, for I thought
I deserved a smile. And he has a nice one, with even
white teeth in it, and a wistful sort of look in his eyes
at the same time: a really interesting smile.
I wondered what he was thinking about that made
him look so grave; but I conceitedly felt that it wf
something concerning me — or the situation of us both,
CHAPTER VIII
THE tidal wave of pines followed us as, having
had one glance at the Porte Dor^, we left
Fr^jus, old and new, behind. It followed us
out of gay little St. Raphael, lying in its alluvial plain
of flowers, and on along the coast past which the ships
of Augustus Caesar used to sail.
Not in my most starry dreams could I have fancied a
road as beautiful as that which opened to us soon, winding
above the dancing water.
Graceful dryad pines knelt by the wayside, stretching
out their arms to the sea, where charming little bays
shone behind enlacing branches, blue as the eyes of a
wood-nymph gle min^ shyly through the brown tangle of
her hair. Pme bulsanj mingled with the bitter-sweet
perfume of almond blossom, and caught a pungent tane
of salt from the wind.
What romance -what beauty! It made me in love
with life, just to pass this way, and know that so much
hidden loveliness existed. I glanced furtively over my
shoulder at the couple whose honeymoon it is -our
master and mistress. Lady Tumour sat nodding in the
conservatory atmosphere of her glass cage, and Sir
Samuel was earnestly choosing a cigar.
Suddenly it 5 k me that Providence must have a
vast sense of humour, and that the little inhabitants of
77
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78 THE MOTOR MAID
this earth, high and low, must aflFord It a gre^t deal of
benevolent amusement.
All too soon we swept out of the forest, straight into a
little town, St. Maxime, with a picturesque t ort of its
own, where red-sailed fishing boats lolled as idly as the
dark-eyed young men in cafds near the shore. A few
tourists walking out from the hotel on the hill gazed rather
curiously at us in our fine blue car; and we gazed away
from them, across a sapphire gulf, to the distant houses
of St. Tropez, banked high against a promontory of
emerald.
I should have liked to run on to St. Tropez, for I knew
his pretty legend; how he was one of the guards of St.
Paul in prison, and was converted by the eloquence of
his captive; but the chauffeur said that, after La Foux
(famed home of miniature horses) the coast road would
lose its surface of velvet. It would be laced in and out
with crossings of a local railway line, and there would be
so many bumps that Lady Tumour was certain to wake
up very cross. ^^
"For your sake I don't want to make her cross,
said he, and turned inland; but the way was no less
beautiful. The pines were tired of running after us, but
great cork trees marched beside the road, like an army of
crusaders in disarray, half in, half out, of armour. Above,
rose the Mountnins of the Moors, whose very name
seemed to ring with the distant echo of a Saracen war
song; and here and there, on a bare, wild hillside, towered
all that was left of some ancient castle, fallen into ruin.
Cogolin was fine, and Grimaud was even finer.
Up a steep sa. -5nt, through shadowy forests we had
»*
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had
THE MOTOR MAID 79
passed, now and then coming suddenly upon a little
red-roofed village nestling among the trees as a stVaw-
berry among its leaves, when abruptly we flashed out
where spaws of sky and silver sea opened. Between
hills that seemed to sweep a cu ^y to us, we flew down
an apple-paring road toward Hyferes.
The Tumours had lunched, if not wisely, probably
too well, at Valescure about one o'clock, and it was n't
yet four; but the air at the beautiful Castebelle hotels
is said to be perpetually glittering with Royalties and
other bright beings of the great worid, so her ladyship
would n't have been persuaded to miss the place.
Not that anyone tried to persuade her, for the two
powers beJ nd the throne (and in front of the car) wanted
to go — .. to see the Royalties, but the beauties of
Costebelle itself.
We slipped gently through the town of Hy^res, whose
avenues of giant palms looked like great sea anemones
turned into trees, and then spurted up a hill into a vast
and fragrant grove that smelled of a thousand flowers.
In the grove stood three hotels, with wide views over
jade-gieen lagoons to an indigo sea; and at the most
charming of the trio we stopped.
Nothing was said about tea for the two servants, but
while the "quality" had theirs on an exquisite terrace,
the chauffeur brought a steaming cup to me, as I sat
in the car.
J' This was given me for my beaux yeux," he said,
but I don't want any tea, so please take it, and don't
let it be wasted."
I was convinced that he had paid for that cup of •: i
I
80 THE MOTOR MAID
with coin harder if not brighter ihan the beaux yeux
in question; but it would have hurt his feelings if I had
refused, therefore I drank the tea and thanked the giver.
"You are being very kind to me," I said, "Mr. Bane
or Dane; so do you mind telling me which it is?"
"Dane," he replied shortly. "Not that it matters.
A chauffeur by any other name would smell as much of
oil and petrol. It's actually my real name, too. Are
you surprised? I was either too proud or too stubborn
to change it — I'm not sure which — when I took up
*shuvving' for a livelihood."
"No, I'm not surprised," I said. "You don't look
like the sort of man who would change his name as if it
were a coat. I 've kept mine, too, to * maid ' with. You
' shuv,' I ' maid.' It sounds like an exercise in a strange
languac^."
"That's precisely what it is," he answered. "A
difficult language to learn at first, but I 'm getting the
' hang ' of it. I hope you won't need to pursue the study
very thoroughly."
"And you think you will?"
"I think so," he said, his face hardening a little, and
looking dogged. "I don't see any way out of it for the
present."
I was silent for almost a whole minute — which can
seem a long time to a woman — half hoping that he meant
to tell me something about himself; how it was that he 'd
decided to be a professional chauffeur, and so on. I was
sure there must be a story, an interesting story — per-
haps a romantic one — i.nd if he confided in me, I would
in him. Why not, when — on my part, at least — there 's
THE MOTOR MAID 81
nothing to conceal, and we 're bound to be compa. as
of the Road for weal or woe ? But if he felt any tempta-
tion to be expansive he resisted it, Uke a true EwgUshman-
and to break a silence which grew almost embarrassing
I was driven to ask him, quite brazenly, if he had no
curiosity to know my name.
"Not exactly curiosity." said he, smiling his pleasant
smile agam. " I 'm never curious about people I — like
or feel that I 'm going to like. It is n't my nature."
"It 's just the opposite with me."
"We 're of opposite sexes."
"You believe that explains it? I don't know.
Man may be a fellow creature, I suppose — though they
did n't teach me that at the Convent. But tell me this-
even if you have no curiosity, because you hope you can
manage to endure me, do you think I look like an
"Somehow, you don't. Names have different colours
forme. Elise is bright pink. You ought to be silver, or
pale blue."
"Elise is my professional name; Lady Tumour is my
sponsor. My real name 's Lys — Lys d'Angely."
"Good! Lv ir silver."
"I wish I • in it. Let me see if I can guess
what you o, h: he? You look like - like - well
Jack would su .. But that 's too good to be true. I
shall never meet a * Jack ' except in books and ballads."
"My name is John Claud. But when I was a boy, I
always fought any chap who called me * Claud,' and tri'ed
to give him a black eye or a bloody nose. You may call
me Jack, if you like."
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82 THE MOTOR MAID
•• Certainly not. I shall call you Mr. Dane."
"Shuwers are never mistered."
"Not even by the females of their kind? I always
supposed that manners were very toploftical in the ser-
vants' hall."
"We may both soon know."
"Elise, take that cup at once where you got it from,
and come back to your place. We are ready to start."
This from Lady Tumour. (Really, if she takes to
interfering every time we others have got to the middle
of an interesting conversation, I don't know what I shall
do to herl Perhaps I '11 put her transformation on side-
wise. Or would that be blackmail?)
Silently the chauffeur took the cup from my frightened
fingers, and marched of! with it into the hotel, without a
"by your leave" or "with youv leave."
" My word, your chauffeur might have better manners!"
grumbled Lady Tumour to Sir Samuel, as she climbed
into the car; but there was no scolding when the mde
young man came briskly back, looking supremely uncon-
scious of having ^ven offence.
"Now we must make good time to Marseilles, if we 're
to get there for dinner," he said, when he had started the
car, and taken his place. "We shall stop there to-night,
or rather, just outside the town, in one of the nicest
hotels on earth, as you will see."
"Whose choice?" I asked.
"Mine," he laughed, "but I don't think Sir Samuel
knows that!"
Down to Hyferes we floated again, on the wings of the
Aigle, I looking longingly across the valley where the
THE MOTOR MAID 83
Oil town climbed a dtadeled hill, and lay down at the foot
of \ sturdy though crumbling castle. If this were really
my own tour, as I am trying to play it is, I would have
commanded a long stop at Costebelle, to make explora-
tions of the region round about. I can imagine no greater
joy than to be able to stay at beautiful places as long as
one wished, and to keep on doing beautiful things till
one tired of doing them.
But life is a good deal like a big busybody of a police-
man, continually telling us to get up and move on!
Our world was a flower world again, ringed in like a
secret fairyland, with distant mountains of extraordinarily
graceful shapes — charming lady-mountains; and as
far as we could see the road was cut through a carpet
of pink, white, and golden blossoms destined by and by
for the markets of Paris, London, Berlin, and Vienna.
Before I thought it could be so near, we dashed into
Toulon, a very different Toulon from the Toulon of the
railway station, where I remembered stopping a few
mornings (which seemed like a few years) ago. Now,
it looked a noble and impressive place, as well as a
tremendously busy town; but my eye climbed to the
♦owery heights above, wond^-ing on which one Napol-
et.a — a smart young of of artillery — placed the
batteries that shelled the British out of the harbour,
and gained for him the first small laurel leaf of his
imperial crown.
1 thought, too, of all the French novels I'd read,
whose sailor heroes were stationed at Toulon, and there
met romantic or sensational adventures. They were
always handsome and dashing, those heroes, and as we
84 THE MOTOR MAID
threaded intricate fortificatio % I found myself looking
out for at least one or two of them.
Yes, they were there, plenty of heroes, almost all hand-
some, with splendid dark eyes that searched flatteringly
to penetrate the mystery of my talc triangle. l*hev
did n't know, poor dears, that there was nothing bettei
than a lady's-maid behind it. What a waste of gorgeous
glances!
I laughed to myself at the fancy, and the chauffeur
sitting beside me wanted to know why; but I would n't
tell him. One really can't say everything to a man one
has known only for a day. And yet, the curious part is,
I feel as if we had been the best of friends for a long time.
I never felt like that toward any man before, but I sup-
pose it is because of the queer resemblance in our fates.
Beyond Toulon we had to slow down for a long pro-
cession of gypsy caravans on their way to town; quaint,
moving houses, with strings of huge pearis that were
gleaming onions, festooned across their blue or green
doors and windows; and out from those doors and
windows wonderful eyes gazed at us — eyes full of
secrets of the East, strange eyes, more fascinating in their
passing glance than those of the gay young heroes at
Toulon.
So we flew on to the village of Ollioules, and into the
dim mountain gorge of the same musical name. The
car plunged boldly through the veil of deep blue shadow
which hung, ghostlike, over the serpentine curves of the
white road; and out of its twilight-myst'T rose always,
the faint singing of a little river the., rau .jtside us, under
the steep gray wall of towering rock.
THE MOTOR MAID
85
At the top of the gorge a surprise of beauty waited
for us as our way led along a sinuous road cut into
the swelling mountain-side. Far off lay the sea, with
an anny of tremendous purple rocks hurling themselves
headlong into the molten gold of the water, like a drove of
mammoths. All the world was gold and royal purple.
Hills and mountains stood up, darkly violet, out of a
golden plain, against a sky of gold; and it was such a
picture as only Heaven or Turner could have painted.
Nor was there any break in the varied splendour of
the scene and of the sun's setting until we came to the
dull-looking town of Aubagne. After that, the Southern
darkness swooped in haste, and while we wound tediously
through the immense, never-ending traff . of Marseilles,
it "made night." All the length and breadth of the
Cannebi&re burst into brilliance of electric light, as if
in our honour. The great street looked as gay as a
Paris boulevard; and as we turned into it, we turned into
an adventure.
To begin wiih, nothing seemed less likely than an
adventure. We drew up calmly before the door of a
hotel whence a telephonic demand fc* rooms must b?
sent to La Reserve, under the same management. It was
the chauffeur who had to go in and telephone, for the
bridegroom is even more helpless in French than the bride;
and before Mr. Dane could stop ihe car, Sir S- u^'iel
called out: "Keep the motor going, to save time, i m
need n't be a minute in there. Her ladyship is hungry,
and wants to get on."
The chauffeur raised his eyebrows, but obeyed in
silence, leaving the motor hard at work, the automobile
I'
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g6 THE MOTOR MAID
panting as impatiently to be off as if "she" suffered with
Lady Tumour.
No sooner was the tall, leather-clad figure out of sight
than a crowd of small boys and youths pressed boldly
round the handsome car. Her splendour was her undoing,
for a plain, every-day sort of automobile might have failed
to attract.
Laughing, jabbering patois, a dozen young imps forced
their audacious attentions on the unprotected azure
beauty. What was I, that I could defend her, left there
as helpless as she, while her great heart throbbed
under me?
It was easy to say "Allez-vous en — va!" and I said
it, not once, but again and again, each time more emphat-
ically than before. Nobody paid the slightest attention,
however, except, perhaps to find an extra spice of pleasure
in tormenting me. If I had been a yapping miniature
lap-dog, with teeth only pour faire rire, I could not have
been treated with greater disdain by the crowd. I glanced
hastily round to see if Sir Samuel had not taken alarm; but,
sitting beside his wife in the big crystal cage, he seemed
blissfully unconscious of danger to his splendid Aigle.
Instead, the couple looked rather pleased than otherwise
to be a centre of attraction.
"Perhaps," I thought, "they're right, and these
young wretches can work no real harm to the car. They
ought to know better than I "
But they didu't; for before the thought could spin
itself out in my mind, a gypsy-eyed little fiend of twelve
or thirteen made a spring at the driver's seat. With
a yelp of mischievous glee he proved his daring to his
m
THE MOTOR MAID 87
comrades by snatching at the starting-lever. He was
quick as a flash of summer lightning, but if I hud n't been
qmcker, the big car might have leaped into life, and run
amuck through the most crowded street in busy Marseilles
I felt myself go cold and hot, horribly uncertain whether
my mterference might work harm or good, but before I
qmte knew what I did, I had sent the boy flying with a
sounding box on the ear.
He squealed as he sprawled backward, and I stood up
ready for battle, my fingers tingling, my heart pounding!
The imp was up again, in half a breath, pushed forward
by his fnends to take revenge, and I could hear Sir Samuel
or her ladyship wrestling vainly with the window behind
me. What would have happened next I can't tell, except
that I was in a mood to fight for our car till the death
even ,f knives flashed out; and I think I was gasping
Police! Police!" but at that instant Mr. Jack Dane
hurled himself like a catapult from the hotel. He dashed
the weedy youths out of his way like ninepins, jumped to
his seat, and the car and the car's occupants were safe
"You are a trump. Miss d'Angely," said he, as we
boomed away from the hotel, scattering the crowd before
us as an eddy of wind scatters autumn leaves. "You
did just the right thing at just the right time. It was all
my fault. I ought n't to have left the motor going."
''It was Sir Samuel's fault," I contradicted him.
" No. Whatever goes wrong with the car is always the
chauffeur's fault. Sir Samuel wanted me to do a foolish
thing, and I ought n't to have done it. I had your Ufe
to think of "
"And theirs."
gg THE MOTOR MAID
"Theirs, of course. But I would ha^3 thought of
^Tma'de my heart feel as warm as 8 bird in a nest to
be complimented by the man at the helm for presence
of mind, and then to hear that already I 'd gamed a fnend
to whom my life was of some value. Since my mother
died, there has been no one for whom I ve come first
I wanted badly to do something to show my gratitude,
but could think of nothing except that, by and by, when
we knew each other better. I might offer to sew on his
buttons or mend his socks.
CHAPTER IX
1 SUPPOSE we'll meet by-and-by at dinner?" I
said (I 'm afraid rather wistfully) to the chauffeur
as he drove the car up a steep hill to the door of La
Reserve, on The Comiche.
"Well, no," he answered, "because you needn't fear
anything disagreeable here, and I *m going to stop at a
less expensive place. You see, I pay my own way,
and as I really have to live on my screw, it doesn't
run to grand hotels. This one is rather grand; but
you will be all right, because, although it 's a famous
place for food, at this season few people stop overnight,
and I've found out through the telephone that the
Tumours are the only ones who have taken bedrooms.
That means you '11 have your dinner and breakfast by
yourself."
"Oh, that will be nice I" I said, trying to speak as if
I delighted in the thought of solitude and reflection. "I
wish I were paying my own way, too; but I could n't
do it on fifty francs a month, could I ?"
"Fifty francs a month!" he echoed, astonished. "Is
that your compensation for being a slave to such a woman ?
By Jove, it makes me hot all over, to think that a girl like
you should "
"Well, this trip is thrown in as additional compen>
sation," I reminded him. "And thanks to you and your
1^1
90 THE MOTOR MAID
kindness, I believe I 'm going to find my place more than
tolerable."
The car stopped, and duty began. I could n't even
turn and say good night to the chauffeur, as I walked
primly into the hotel, laden with my mistress's things.
She and Sir Samuel had the best rooms in the house,
a suite big enough and grand enough for a king and
queen, with a delightful loggia overlooking the high gar-
den and the sea. But of course Lady Tumour would
die rather than seem impressed by anything, and would
probably pick faults if she were invited to sleep at Buck-
ingham Palace or Windsor Castle — a contingency which
I think unlikely. She was snappish with hunger, and did
not trouble to restrain her temper before me. Poor Sir
Samuel 1 It is he who has snatched her from her lodging-
house, to lead her into luxury, because of his faithful
love of many years; and this is the way she rewards himl
If I 'd been in his place, and had a javelin handy, I think
I might suddenly have become a widower.
She was better after dinner, however, so I knew she
must have been well fed: and in the morning, after a
gorgeous dSjeuner on the loggia, she was in an amiable
mood to plan for the day's journey.
At ten o'clock the chauffeur arrived, and was shown
up to the Tumours' vast Louis XVI. salon. He looked
as much like an icily regular, splendidly null, bronze statue
as a flesh-and-blood young man could possibly look, for
that, no doubt, is his conception of the part of a well-
trained "shuwer"; and he did not seem aware of my
existence as he stood, cap in hand, ready for orders.
As for me, I flatter myself that I was equally admirable
THE MOTOR MAID 91
in my own mitier. I was assorting a motley collection
of guide-books, novels, maps, smelUng-salts, and kodaks
when he came in, and was dying to look up, but I remained
as sweetly expressionless as a doll.
The bronze statue respectfully inquired how its master
would like to make a httle detour, instead of going by
way of Aix-en-Provence to Avignon, aS arranged. Within
an easy run was a spot loved by artists, and beginning to
be talked about — Martigues on the Etang de Berre, a
salt lake not far from Marseilles — said to be picturesque.
The Prince of Monaco was fond of motoring down
that way.
At the sound of a princely name her ladyship's mind
made itself up with a snap. So the change of programme
was decided upon, and curious as to the chauffeur's
motive, I questioned him when again we sat shoulder to
shoulder, the salt wind flying past our faces.
"Why the Etang de Berre?" I asked.
"Oh, I rather thought it would interest you. It 's a
rueer spot."
"Thank you. You think I Kke queer spots -and
things?"
"Yes, and people. I 'm sure you do. You '11 like
the Etang and the country round, but they won't."
^ "That 's a detail," said I, "since this tour runs itself
m the interests of the femme de chambre and the
chauffeur."
"We 're the only ones who have any interests that
matter. It 's all the same to them, really, where they go,
If I take the car over good roads and land them at expen-
sive hotels at night. But I 'm not going to do that always.
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THE MOTOR MAID
!i^
They *vc got to see the Gorge of the Tam. They don't
know that yet, but they have."
"And won't they like seeing it?"
"Lady Tumour will hate it."
"Then we may as well give it up. Her will is mightier
than the sword."
"Once she 's in* there '11 be no turning back. She 'U
have to push on to the end."
"She may n't consent to go in."
"Queen Margherita of Italy is said to have the idea
of visiting the Tam nejct summer. Think what it would
mean to Lady Tumour to get the start of a queen 1"
"You are Machiavelian! When did you have this
inspiration?"
"Well, I got thinking last night that, as they have
plenty of time — almost as much time as money — it
seemed a pity that I should whirl them along the road to
Paris at the rate planned oripnally. You see, though
there are plenty of interesting places on the way
mapped out — you 've been to Tours, you say "
"What of that?"
"Oh, the trip might as well be new for everybody
except myself; and as you like adventures "
"You think it 's the Tumours' duty to have them."
"Just so. If only to punish her ladyship for grinding
you down to £*ty francs a month. What a reptile 1"
"If she 's a reptile, i 'm a cat to plot against her."
"Do cats plot? Only against mice, I think. And
anyhow, I 'm doing all the plotting. I 've felt a different
man since yesterday. I 've got something to live for."
"Oh, whatf" The question asked itself.
THE MOTOR MAID 93
"For a comrade in misfortune. And to see her to her
journey's end. I suppose that end will be in Paris ?"
"No-o," I said. "I rather think I shall go on all the
way to England with Lady Tumour -if I can stand it.
There 's a person in England who will be kind to me."
"Oh!" remarked Mr. Dane, suddenly dry and taciturn
again. I didn't know what had displeased him —
unless he was sorry to have my company as far as England;
yet somehow I could n't quite believe it was that.
All this talk we had while dodging furious trams and
enormous waggons piled with merchandise, in that mael-
strom of traffic near the Marseilles docks, which must
be passed before we could escape into the country. At
last, coasting down a dangerously winding hill with a
too suggestively named village at the bottom — L'Assassin
— the Aigle turned westward. The chauffeur let her
spread her wings at last, and we raced along a clear road,
the Etang already shimmering blue before us, Uke aii
eye that watched and laughed.
Then we had to swing smoothly round a great circle
to see in all its length and breadth that strange, hidden,'
and fishy fairy-land of which Martigues is the door.'
Once the Phoenicians found their way here, looking for
salt, which is exploited to this day; Marius camped
near enough to take his morning dip in the Etang, per-
haps; and Jeanne, queen of Naples, held Martigues for
herself. But now only fish, and fishermen, and a few
artists occupy themselves in that quaint little worid which
one passes all regardlessly in the flying "Cote d'Azur."
As we sailed round the road which rings the sleepy,
looking salt lake, Lady Tumour had a window opened
04
THE MOTOR MAID
II ■
on purpose to ask what on earth the Prince of Monaco
found to admire in this flat country, where there were no
fine buildings? And her rebellion made me take alarm
for the success of our future plots. But the chauffeur
(anxious for the same reason, maybe, that she should be
content) explained things nicely.
Why, said he, for one thing the best fish eaten at
the best restaurants of Monte Carlo came out of the
Etang de Berre. The bouillabaise which her ladyship
had doubtless tasted at La Reserve last night, originally
owed much to the same source; and talking of bouUlo'
baise, Martigues was almost as famous for it as La
Reserve itself. One had but to lunch at the little hotel
Paul Chabas to prove that. And then, for less material
reasons. His Serene Highness might be influenced by the
fact that Corot had loved this ring of land which clasped
the Etang de Berre — Ziem, too, and other artists whose
opinion could not be despised.
These arguments silenced if they did n't convince Lady
Tumour, though she had probably never heard of Ziem,
or even Corot, and we two in front were able to admire
the charming scene in peace. Crossing bridges here
and there we saw, rising above sapphire lake and silver
belt of olives jewelled with rosy almond blossom, more
than one miniature Carcassonne, or ruined castle small
as if peeped at through a diminishing glass. There
was Port le Bouc, the Mediterranean harbour of the
Etang, or Watergate to fairyland, as Martigues was the
door; Istre on its proud little height; Miramas and
Berre, important in their own eyes, and pretty in all others
when reflected in the glassy surface of blue water. There
THE MOTOR MAID
05
were dark groups of cypresses, like mourning figures
talking together after a funeral — ancient trees who could
almost remember the Romans; and better than all else,
there was Pont Flavian, which these Romans had built.
Even Lady Tumour condescended to get out of the
car to do honour to the bridge with its two Corinthian
arches of perfect grace and beauty; but she had nothing
to say to the poor little, tired-looking lions sitting on top,
which I longed to climb up and pat. «
She wanted to push on, and her one thought of Aix-en-
Provence was for lunch. Was Dane sure we should
find anything decent to eat there? Very well, then the
sooner we got it the better.
What a good thing there was someone on board the car
io appreciate Provence, someone to keep saying —
"We 're in Provence — Pntvencel" repeating the word
jusi for the joy and music of it, and all it means
of romance and history I
If there had not been someone to say and feel that,
every turn of the tyres would have been an insult to
Provence, who had put on her loveliest dress to bid us
welcome. Among the olives and almonds, young trees
of vivid yellow spouted pyramids of thin, gold flame
against a sky of violet, and the indefinable fragrance
of spring was in the air. We met handsome, up-standing
peasants in red or blue berSts, singing melodiously in
patois — Provenfal, perhaps — as they walked beside
their string of stout cart-horses. And the songs, and the
dark eyes of the singers, and the wonderful homed
harness which the noble beasts wore with dignity, all
seemed to answer us: "Yes, you are in Provence."
96
THE MOTOR MAID
We talked of old Provence, my Fellow Worm and I,
while our master and mistress wearied for their luncheon;
of the men and women who had passed along this road
which we travelled. What would Madame de S^vign^,
or Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, or George Sand have
said if a blue car like ours had suddenly flashed into their
vision ? We agreed that, in any case, not one of them —
or any other person of true imagination — would call
abominable a wonderful piece of mechanism with the
power of flattening mountuns into plains, triumphing
over space, annihilating distance; a machine combining
fiercest energy with the mildest docility. No, only old
fogies would close their hearts to a machine fit for the
gods, and pride themselves on being motophobes for^
ever. We felt ourselves, car and all, to be worthy of
this magic way, lined with blossoms that played like rosy
children among the strange rocks characteristic of
Provence — rocks which seemed to have boiled up all
hot out of the earth, and then to have vied with each
other in hardening into most fantastic shapes. Even
we felt ourselves worthy to meet a few troubadours, as
we drew near to Aix, where once they held their Courts
of Love; and we had talked ourselves into an almost
dangerously romantic mood by the time we arrived at
the hotel in the Cours Mirabeau.
There, in the wide central Place, sprayed a delicious
fountain splashed with gold by the sunlight that filtered
through an arbour of great trees; and there, too, was a
statue of good King Ren€. Perhaps, if I had n't known
ttat Aix-en-Provence was the home of the troubadours,
and that its springs had been loved by the Romans before
THE MOTOR MAID 97
«be d.y, of Christiwritj,, I might »ot h.», -bought it mow
ch.rm,„g .h.„ m«,y „„,her .„ci.„, .fe.^ ^^
F^nc; bu. ,t i. impo,^bl. to di^nUngle o„^^ imZ^^
ton «,d Mnfment f»m one'. .y«ight; th.„fo„T^
seemed an exquisite place to me
Now that I Icnew how knight-ermntor in some of it,
branches was Ukely to affect Mr. Dane's jicket. I «a^ vrf
that nothing should temp, me to encou^^ ijm " ^
pu«uit. No matter how many airtatioufsmiles w«
sh«l upon me by enterprising waiter, no matter how
mmy conversations were begun by couriers who to^k
me for rather a superior sample of "young p«^n " I
:::m''iikl'': ^\ f • """""' " "-p'^"' -^^-^^^
seem like a hint for protection.
hgh that beat about the thought of luncheon, I almosf
bustled into the hotel, and asked for the servant' dinint
room. I knew that there was little hope of eating alon!
for several ,mp<>rt.nt.looking moto«a^ we« d™^ "p
before the hotel; but I was hardly prepared for thTg^y
company I found assembled. ' <ne gay
Three chauffeurs, a valet, and two maids were lunching,
and judging from appearances the meal was far enough
advanced .0 have cemented lifelong friendship.. Ze
l«.ng as free as the air you breathe, in this countj of
were more than half empty, and the elder of the two
elderly maids had a shining pink knob on her nose.
2 be^ covenng), and every eye was upon me during
•be intricate process of removal. Convei^tion, which
III
'4
06 THE MOTOR MAID
was in French, slackened in the interests of curiosity;
and when the new face was exposed to public gaze the
three gallant chauffeurs jumped up, as one man, each
with the kind intention of placing me in a chair next
himself. " VoUa une petite lite irop jolie pour etre eachSe
c<mme <^" exclaimed the best looking and boldest of
the trio.
The ladies of the party sniffed audibly, and raised
their somewhat moth-eaten eyebrows at each other in
virtuous di?appro''-il of a young female who provoked
such remarks from strangers. The valet, who had the
air of being engaged to the maid with the nose, confined
himself to a non-committal grin, but the second and
third chauffeurs loyH.ly supported their leader. "Vou9
avez raison," they responded, laughing and showing
quantities of white teeth. Then they followed up their
compliment by begging that mademoiselle would sit
down, and allow her health to be drunk — with that of
the other ladies.
"Yes, sit down by me," said Number One, indicating
a chair. "This is the Queen's throne."
" By me," said Number Two. " I 'U cut up your meat
for you."
"By me," said Number Three. "I'll give you my
share of pudding."
By this time I was red to the ears, not knowing whether
it were wiser for a lady's-maid to run away, or to take the
rough chaff good-humouredly, and make the best of it.
I fluttered, undecided, never thinking of the old adage
concerning the woman who hesitates.
In an instant, it was forcibly recalled to my mind, for
THE MOTOR MAID _
Number One chauffeur, sme"ng strongly of the go^
wd wine of Provence, came forwaH and offered me
Dm arm.
ThI- was too much.
Engnlr* **°"'*^ ' ^ '^""•~^' '" "y «>»'"««" 'peaking
excliit/^^f "' ^'*^^"''" *^« *^» others
exclaimed Vtve I'entente cardialel We are Frenchmen.
You are ItaUan. She belongs to our side."
Let her choose." saia the handsome Italian, pointing
his moustache and doing such execution upon me with
his splendid eyes, that if they'd been Maxim guns I should
have fallen riddled with bullets.
in fLI? ^'LT^^*;' ^ ""^""^ *<> •*"«'^«''. this time
in French. Please take your seats. I will have a chair
at the other end of the table."
"You see, mademoiselle is too polite to choose between
us. Sue s afraid of a duel," laughed good-looldn«f
Number One. "I tell you what we must do. We'll
draw lots for her. Three pellets of bread. The biggest
wins. ee^""-
"Beg your pardon, monsieur," remarked Mr. Dane
whom I had n't seen as he opened the door, "mademoiselle
is of my party. She is waiting for me."
His voice was perfectly calm, even polite, but as I
whirled round and looked at him, fearing a scene. I saw
that his eyes were rather dangerous. He loo:.ed like a
dog who says, as plainly as a dog can speak. "J 'm a
good fe low, and I 'm giving you the benefit of the doubt.
But put that bone down, or I bite."
The Italian dropped the bone (I don't mind the simile)
lii
I
100 THE MOTOR MAID
not because he was afraid, I think, but because Mr. John
Dane's chin was much squarer and firmer than his;
and because such sense of justice as he had told him
that the newcomer was withm hb rights.
"And I beg mademoiselle's pardon," he replied with
a bow and a flourish.
" I 'm so glad you *ve come — but I ought n't to be,
and I did n't expect you," I said, when my chauffeur had
pulled out a chair for me at the end of the table farthest
from the other maids and chauffeurs.
"Why not?" he wanted to know, sitting down by
my side.
"Because I suppose it's the best hotel in town,
and "
"Oh, you 're thinking of my pocket 1 I wish I had n't
said what I did last night. Looking back, it sounds
caddish. But I generally do blurt out things stupidly.
If I did n't, I should n't be 'shuwing' now — only that 's
another stoiy. To tell the whole truth, it was n't the state
of my pocketbook alone that influenced me last night.
I had two other reasons. One was a selfish one, and
the other, I hope, unselfish."
**I hope the selfish one was n't fear of being bored?"
"If that's a question, it doesn't deserve an answer.
But because you 've asked it, I '11 tell you both reasons.
I 'd stopped at La Reserve before, in — in rather different
circumstances, and I thought — not only might it make
talk about me, but "
"I understand," I said. "Of cours". Lady Tumour
is n't as careful a chaperon as she ought to be."
Then we both laughed, and the danger-signals were
THE MOTOR MAID mi
tinned off in his eye,. When he is n't smiling, Mr. Dane
~met.m« I<«fa aln,«s, sullen, quite « tf ^ZmZ
As^abfe rf he lik«l; but that n»kes the ch,rl„
sinking when he does smile.
"You need n't wony about that pocket of mine " he
went on, a, we ate our luncheon!^ "It's al cheap
"""*» * maae up my mmd that vou 'H
•;&> you are my brother, are you ?" I echoed.
Don t you think you might adopt me, once for all
m that relationship? Then, you Jee. th; cCperonW
won't matter so much. Of cou,^, it 's early day"!
me^on as a brother, but I think we'd bJtter'L^n't:
"Before I know whether you have any faults?" T
«ked. And just for the minute, the FWnch half of me
Z If : P'T"' "' "» «*'• That part of me pouteT
r„ f .5:' '? '"'"'•' ^ '^"'^ -oreLusing toTavel
L'",^^h°f^ "'^""tan^s beside a person one »uTd
ftrt wia, than to make a pact of "bother and sister"
He might have given me the chance to say first thiri M
be a sister to himl But the American half sllptj thf
French ha f, and said: "What silly nonsense. Tn't t
teL. '"" '"'' ''° y°" ^ *« >«« your vanity
stepped on, you conceited little minxl " ^
"Oh, I 've plenty of faults, I 'II tell you to start with _
you have n t had tune to notice yet," said my new relative.
U'.
?l
■ii
102 THE MOTOR MAID
"I 'm a sulky brute, for one thing, and I 've got to be a
pessimist lately, for another — a horrid fault, that! —
and I have a vile temper "
"All those faults might be serviceable in a brother**
I said. • hough in any one else "
" In a fiiend or a lover, they 'd be unbearable, of course;
I know that," he broke in. "But who 'd want me for a
friend? And as for a lover, why, I 'm struck oS the list
of eligibles, forever — if I was ever on it."-*
After that, we ate our luncheon as fast as we could
(a very bad habit, which I don't mean to keep up for
man or brother), and even though the others had begun
long before we did, we finished while they were still
cracking nuts and peeling apples, their spirits somewhat
subdued by the Englishman's presence.
"The great folk won't have got their money's worth
for nearly an hour yet," said Mr. Dane. " Don't you want
to go and have a look at the Cathedral ? There are some
grand things to see there — the triptych called 'Le Bubson
Argent,' and some splendid old tapestry in the choir;
a whole wall and some marble columns from a Roman
temple of Apollo — oh, and you must n't forget to look for
the painting of St. Mitre the Martyr trotting about with
his head in his hands. On the way to the Cathedral
notice the doorways you '11 pass. Aix is celebrated for
its doorways."
(Evidently my brother passed through Aix, as well
as along the Comiche, under "different circumstances 1")
"You mean — I 'm to go alone ?"
"Yes, I can't leave the car to take you. I 'm sorry."
The French half of me was vexed again, but did n't
THE MOTOR MAID joj
ngnt, see it, for fear of another scoldimr.
a„i ^ *"'?" '■"" ™y «» buaineasUke a, hi, ow«
«!^Zf, 1 T ™^ trespassing on his good nature-
all he had pronused, and more. It was a scramble to^
r^s^ri T^f.^r"r '""«'"8 °™' "y head like
..^Tl I^if ;t 1 ::/''r"' '°°'' '■"' »'«"
a/ II X Kept the car waiting was a string f,VH
to my nerves, pul.ing them all at o„4, like a S
jack s anns and legs, so that I p«i,ively ran bJ^TZ
hotel more breathless than Cinderella wh" ttCr^,
^ began to ,«i,. b„, ^^ ^^ ^^-rof
coach, not yet become a pumpkin; there was thf c^^
ur, not u^ed into whatever animal a chauffeur d,^"
I^h > '! l"."^ '"'"''• »"•' *»« "«« not Sir &m^
«id her ladyship, nor any sign of them. '
ty5rsta::e:ai-r^-:-
moutM-nder her Ufted bonnet. -B^yV^ ^^^^^
toZXT^'"^' ?"'' ™"' '""™'- "You don't mean
to say the Tumours have been out, and waiting?"
El;
104 THE MOTOR MAID
"I do, but don't be so despairing. I told them I
thought I 'd better look the car over, and was n't quite
ready. That 's always true, you know. A motor 's like
a pretty woman; never objects to being looked at. So
they said 'damn,' and strolled off to buy chocolates."
"It 's getting beyond count how many times you 've
saved me, and this is only our second day out," I exclaimed.
"Here they come now, as they always do, when we
exchange a word."
I trembled guiltily, but there was no more than a vague
general disapproval in Lady Tumour's eyes, the kind of
expression which she thinks useful for keeping servants in
their place.
I got into mine, on the front seat; the car s bonnet
got into its, the chauffeur into his, and at just three o'clock
we turned our backs upon good King Ren€.
The morning had drunk up all the sunshine of the day,
leaving none for afternoon, which was troubled with a
hint of coming mistral. The landscape began to look
like a hastily sketched water-colour, with its hills and
terraces of vine; and above was a pale sky, blurred like
greasy silver. The wind roamed moaning among the
tops of the tall cypresses, set close together to protect the
meadows from one of "the three plagues of Provence."
And even as the mistral tweaked our noses with a chilly
thumb and finger, our eyes caught sight of the second and
more dreaded plague: the deceitfully gentle-seemmg
Durance, which in its rage can come tearing down from
the Alps with the roar of a famished lion.
Far above the wide river, the Aigle glided across a
high-hung suspension bridge, the song of the water float-
THE MOTOR MAID 105
ing up to our ears mingUng with the purr of the motor
— two giant forces, one set loose by nature, the other by
man, duetting harmoniously together, while the wind
wailed over our heads. But for the third and last plague
of Provence we would have had to search in vain, for the
land IS no longer tormented by Parliament.
Always the road had stretched before us, up hiH after
hill, as straight drawn between its scantily grass-covered'
banks as the parting in an old man's hair; and always
far ahead, wave following wa e of hill and mountain had*'
seemed to roll toward us like the sea as we advanced to
meet them. After the vineyards had come wild rocks
set with crumbling forts, and towers, and chAteauxj
then the mild interest of fruit blossom spraying pink and
white among primly pollarded olives; then grape country
aguiii, with squat, low-growing vines like gnomes kicking
up gnarled legs as they turned somersaults; then a break
into wonderful mountain country, with Orgon's ruins
towering skyward, dark as despair, a wild romance in stone.
But before we reached the great suspension bridge, the
Pont de Bonpas, the landscape appeared exhausted after
Its subhme efforts, and inclined to quiet down for a rest
It was only near Avignon that it sprung up refreshed,
ready for more strange surprises; and the grim grandeur
of the scenery as we approached the ancient town seemed
to prophesy the mediaeval towers and ramparts of the
historic city.
Skirting the huge city wall, the blue car wns the one
note of modernity; but hardly had we turned in at a great
^te worthy to open in welcome for Queen Jeanne of
Naples, or Bertrand du Guesclin, than we were in the
fir.
I
p-i
m
106
THE MOTOR MAID
hum of twentieth-century life. I resented the change,
for one expects nothing, wants nothing, modem in Avig-
non; but in a moment or two we had left the bright cafds
and shops behind, to plunge back into the middle ages.
Anything, it seemed, might happen in the queer, shadowed
streets of tall old houses with mysterious doorways,
through which the Aigle cautiously threaded, like a
gliitering crochet needle practising a new stitch. Then,
in the quiet place, asleep and dreaming of stirring deeds
it once had seen, we stopped before a dignified building
more like some old ducal family mansion than a hotel.
But it Was a hotel, and we were to stop the night in it,
leaving all sightseeing for the next morning. Lady
Tumour was tired. She had done too much already for
one day — with a reproachful glance at the chauffeur
whom she thus made responsible for her prostration.
Nothing would induce her to go out again that evening,
and she thought that she would dine in her own sitting-
room. She didn't like old places, or old hotels, but
she supposed she would have to make the best of this
one. She was a woman who never complained, unless
it really was her duty, and then she did n't hesitate.
This was her mood when getting out of the car, but
inside the quaint and charming house a look at the
visitors' register changed it in a flash. There was one
prince and one duke; there were several counts; and as
to barons, they were peppered about in rich profusion.
Each noble being was accompanied by his chauffeur, so
evidently it was the "thing" to stop in the Hotel de
I'Europe, and the hatU monde considered Avignon worth
wasting time upon. Instantly her ladyship resolved
THE MOTOR MAID 107
to recover gracefully from her fatigue, and descend to the
pubhc dining-room for dinner.
So fascinated was she by the list of great names, that
she lingered over the reading of them, as one lingers
over the last strawberries of the season; and I had to
stand at attention close behind her, with her rugs over
my arm, lest any one should miss seeing that she had a
maid.
•- Dane says the U thing is to make Avignon a centre,
and stop here two or three nights, 'doing' the country
round, before going on to Ntmes or Aries," she said to
Sir Samuel, who was clamouring for the best rooms in
the house "I did n't feel I should Uke that plan, but
thinking it over, I 'm not sure he is n't right "
I knew very well what her "thinking it over" meant!
I hey stood discussing the pros and cons, and as I did n't
yet know the numbers of our rooms, I was obliged to wait
t.11 I was told I was not bored, however, but was look-
ing about ^.nth interest, when I heard the teuf-teuf of a
motoi-K^ar outside. "There goes Mr. Jack Dane with
theAigle I thought; and yet there was a difference in
the sound. I m too amateurish in such matters to under-
stand the exact reason for such differences, though chauf-
feurs say they could tell one make of motor from another
by ear if they were blindfolded. Perhaps it was n't our
car leaving, but another one coming to the hotel!
I had nothing better i. Jo than to watch for new arrivals.
% eyes were lazily fixed on the door, and presently it
opened. A figure, all fur and a yard wide, came in.
It was the figure of Monsieur Charretier.
■J"
lii
CHAPTER X
m
i
FOR a minute everything swam before me. as it
used to at the Convent after some older girl had
twisted up the ropes of the big swing, with me in
it, and let me spin round. Also, I felt as if a jugful of
hot water had been dashed over my head. I seemed to
feel it trickling through my hair and into my ears.
If I could have moved, I believe I should have bolted
like a frightened rabbit, perfectly regardless of what Lady
Tumour might think, caring only to dart away without
being caught by the man I 'd done such wild deeds to
escape. But I was as helpless as a person in a nightmare;
and, indeed, it was as unreal and dreadful to me as a
nightmare to see that fat, fur-coated figure walking
toward me, with the bearded face of Monsieur Charretier
showing between tumed-up collar and motor-cap sur-
mounted by lifted goggles.
They say you have time to think of everything while
you are drowning. I believe that, now, because I had
time to think of everything while that furry gentleman
took a dozen steps. I thought of all the things he
and my cousins had ever done to disgust me with him
during his "courtship." I asked myself whether his
arrival here was a coincidence, or whether he 'd been track-
ing me all along, step by step, while I *d been chuckling
to myself over my lucl^ escape. I thought of what he
108
THE MOTOR MAID 109
would do when he lecognixed me, tad what Lady Tumour
would «y, «,d Sir S^nuel. And although 1 could n'
«. .»c.ly what g«Hj he could do in »ch . «tu.tio„
I w»hed v^eljr that my brother the chauffeur were on
the spot. Ther, suddenly, with a wild rush of W I
"r^Z' "" "^"^ "- "^ •^'' »X
Any properly trained heroine of melodnuna would
have ejaculated "Savedl" but I haven't a tragedyZe
song of a dy,ng frog than anything „„„ „^a^.
Nobody heard it, luckily; and Monsieur Charretier
who had jMt come into the twilight of the hall from the
bnghter hght out of doors, bustled past the .^tiring flgu„
of the lady's-maid without a glan«. I had even ItX
a step out of h,s way. not to be brushed by his fur shoulder,
^ wide he w^mhs expensive motoring coat; andtrem-
U>ng from the shock, I awkwardly collided with L«ly
Tumour; She, m her turn, avoiding my onslaught Z
tf I d been a beggar m rags, stepped on Monsieur Charre-
ber s toe. ^^«ui.xr-
He exclaimed in French, she apologized in English.
He bowed a great deal, assuring madame that she had
not inconvenienced him. She accused her maid, whose
sUipidity wa3 in fault; and because each one Wkedt
the other nch and prosperous they were extremely poUte
at me, What has come over you, Elise? You 're as
clumsy as a cow!" he had no notice to waste upon the
f^^de change. Yet I dai^ not so much as iL^!
Pardonl" lest he should recognize my voice.
kl
m
: P^
110
THE MOTOR MAID
Fortunately my mistress and her husband were now
ready to go up to their rooms, and we left Monsieur
Charretier engaging quarters for himself and his chauf-
feur. Evidently he was going to stop all night; but from
his indifference to me I judged joyfully that he had not
come to the hotel armed with information concerning my
movements. He might be searching for his lost love,
but he did n't know that she was at hand.
All my pleasure in the thought of sightseeing at Avignon
was gone, like a broken bubble. I shouldn't dare to
see any sights, lest I should be seen. But stopping indoors
would n't mean safety. Lady's-maids can't keep their
rooms without questions being asked; and if I pretended
to be ill, very likely Lady Tumour would discharge me
on the spot, and leave me behind as if I were a cast-off
glove. Yet if I flitted about the corridors between my
mistress's room and mine, I might run up against the
enemy at any minute.
I tried to mend the ravelled edges of my courage by
reminding myself that Monsieur Charretier couldn't
pick me up in his motor-car, and run off with me against
my will; but the argument was n't much of a stimulant.
To be sure, he could n't use violence, nor would he try;
but if he found me here he would "have it out" with me,
and he would tell things to Lady Tumour which would
induce her to send me about my business with short
shrift.
He could say that I *d ran away from my relatives, who
were also my guardians, and altogether he could make
out a case against me which would look a dark brown,
if not black. Then, when Lady Tumour and Sir Samuel
t
i
THE MOTOR MAID m
had washed their hands of me, and I was left in a strange
hotel, practically without a sou -unless the Tumours
chose to be inconveniently generous, and packed me off
with a ticket to Paris - 1 should find it very difficult to
escape from my Com Plaster admirer. This time there
would be no kind Udy Kilmamy to whom I could appeal.
Between two evils, one chooses that which makes less
fuss. It wasn't as intricate to risk facing Monsieur
Charretier as it was to eat soap and be seized with con-
vulsions; so I went about my business, waiting upon her
ladyship as if I had not been in the throes of a mental
earthquake. She was not particularly cross, because the
gentleman whose acquaintance I had thmst upon her
might tum out to be Somebody, in which case my clum-
siness would be a blessing in disguise; but if she had
boxed my ears I should hardly have felt it.
Bent upon dazzling the eyes of potentates in the dining-
room, and outshining possible princesses, the lady was
very particular about her dress. Although the big lug-
gage had gone on by train to some town of more import-
ance (in her eyes) than Avignon, she had made me keep
out a couple of gowns rather better suited for a first night
of opera in Paris than for dinner at the best of provincial
hotels. She chose the smarter of these toilettes, a black
chijjan velvet embroidered with golden tiger-lilies, and filled
in with black net from shoulder to throat. Then the blue
jewel-bag was opened, and a nodding diamond tiger-Hly
to match the golden ones was carefully selected from a
blinding array of brilliants, to glitter in her masses of
copper hair. Round her neck went a rope of pearis that
fell to the waist whose slendemess I had just, with a
113
THE MOTOR MAID
:l%
mighty muscuUr e£Fort, secured; but not until she had
dotted a few butterflies, bats, beetles and other scintillating
insects about her person was she satisfied with the effect.
At least, she was certain to create a sensation, as Sir
Samuel proudly remarked when he walked in to get his
necktie tied by me — a habit he has adopted.
"I wonder if I ought to trust Elise with my bag?"
Lady Tumour asked him, anxiously, at last. "So far,
since we 've been on tour, I 've carried it over my arm
everywhere, but it does n't go very well with a costume
like this. What do you think ? "
"Why, I think that Elise is a very good girl, and that
your jewels will be perfectly safe with her if you tell her to
take care of the bag, and not let it out of her sight,"
replied Sir Samuel, evidently embarrassed by such a
question within earshot of the said Elise.
"Perhaps I 'd better have dinner in my own room, so
as to guard it more carefully?" I suggested, brightening
with the inspiration.
" That 's not necessary," answered her ladyship. " You
can perfectly well eat downstairs, with the bag over your
arm, as I have done for the last two days. I don't intend
to pay extra for you to have your meals served in your
room on any excuse whatever."
I could n't very well offer to pay for myself. That
would have raised the suspicion that I had hidden reasons
of my own for dining in private, and I regretted that I
had n't held my tongue. Lady Tumour ostentatiously
locked the receptacle of her jewels with its little ^Ided
key, which she placed in a gold chain-bag studded with
rubies as large as currants; and then, reminding me that
THE MOTOR MAID „3
I WM responsible for valuables worth she did n'» u
down to dirn^" I ^ «"?? °' •** '■'"•' •*• «•"
would b..roruJfii'"!L*irr <='»«««ri«
ti»n, one. in o./,^ ^m I L. '"™"' ""■
my own toilet I^U ""^ " '°"« "' ~"'<' with
oecarredtometlatl JeM^ ^*'. '''*° '"''*'''? '«
P^h-pa i. -s too ,.to „„«,,, .„d1 C u„'"7. '"'"^•
M'.Sarrrn^»rrr-?.r '"«"•'
tray crowded with dishes ^ ^' *'°'^"^« * '"^»"
wa^rifTw''''" "^^ r'' ^" *^^ °^-* matter.,f-fact
aoii with him, man and boy, for years "Hn«- t
haven't spilt anythinffi TK»«. » °' years. Hope I
deeding place that T ^7 J , ! '"'^ * ^™«^ »« »"
g place that I thought you 'd be safer up he«. So
■1
114
THE MOTOR MAID
W
I)
lit
I made fiiends with a dear old waiter chap, and said I
wanted something nice for my sister."
"You did n'tl" I exclaimed.
"I did. Do you mind much? 1 understood it was
agreed that was our relationship."
"No, I don't mind much," I returned. "Thank you
for everything." I shook back a cloud of hair, and
glanced up at the chauffeur. Our eyes met, and as I
took the tray my fingers touched his. His dark face grew
faintly red, and then a slight frown drew his eyebrows
together.
"Why do you suddenly look like that?" I asked.
" Have I done anything to make you cross ?"
"Only with myself," he said.
"But why? Are you sorry you 've been kind to me?
Oh, if you only knew, I need it to-night. Go on being
kind."
"You 're not the sort of ^rl a man can be kind to,"
he jaid, almost gruflBy, it seemed to me.
"Am I ungrateful, then?"
"T don't know what you are," he answered. "I only
know that if I looked at you long as you are now I
should make an ass of myself — and make you detest or
despise me. So good night — and good appetite."
He turned to go, but I called him back. "Please!" I
begged. "I'll only keep you one minute. I'm sure
you *re joking, big brother, about being an ass, or poking
fun at me. But I don't care. I need some advice so
badly ! I 've no one but you to give it to me. I know you
won't desert me, because if you were like that you
would n't have come to stop at this hotel to watch over your
THE MOTOR MAID ns
new sister -which I 'm sure you did. though that may
sound ever so conceited." ^
"Of course I won't desert you," he said. " I could n't
- now. even ,f I would. But I 'II go away till you 've
had your dinner, and - and made vourself look less like
a s.^n and more like an ofc»Mary h.man being -if
possible. Then I'll run up ,nd knock, r-.d you can
come out in the passage to be aa..scd." ^
If I should smg to you, perhaps you might say "
Don t. for heaven's sake, or there would be an end
of -.your brother." he broke in, laughing a little. "It
would n't need much mor.." And with thft he wa! off
He IS veiy abrupt in his manner at times, certainly,
this strange chauffeur, and yet one's feelings are J^
exactly hurt. And one feels, somehow, as I think the
motor seems to feel, as if one could trust to his guidanc^
m the most dangerous places. I 'm sure he would^ive h^
iTfT^' '"' '"' ' "^''^^^ ^^ -"'^ ^^J^^ a good
a good deal of trouble, in several ways
When he had gone I set down the tray, shut the door,
and went to see how I x^ally did look with my hair han.-
"ifke m'"-r"\'"' ' ™"^* ^^"'^^^' '' *^^ --tures
are hke me with my hair do^^, they must be quite nice
harmless little persons. I admire my hair, thei^ 's To
wa St there s such a thoroughly agreeable curl, like a
sound, """'" 'T ''^"* *° ^"^^- Of ---> that
sounds very vam; but why shouldn't one admire one's
1;
IS I
l<
fl
116
THE MOTOR MAID
own things, if one has things worth admiring? It seems
rather ungrateful to Providence to cry them down; and
ingratitude was never a favourite vice with me.
One would have said that the chauffeur knew by
instinct what I liked best to eat, and he must have had a
very persuasive way with the waiter. There was crfeme
d'orge, in a big cup; there were sweetbreads, and there
was lemon meringue. Nothing ever tasted better since
my "birthday feasui" as a child, when I was allowed to
order my own dinner.
My room being on the first floor, though separated by
a labyrinth of quaint passages from Lady Tumour's, there
was danger in a corridor conversation with Mr. Dane
at an hour when people might be coming upstairs after
dinner; but he was in such a hurry to escape from me
that I had no time to explain; and I really had not the
heart to make myself hideous, by way of disguise, as I 'd
planned before his knock at the door. As an alternative
I put on a hat, pinning quite a thick veil over my face,
and when the expected tap came again, I was prepared
for it.
"Are you going out?" my brother asked, looking
surprised, when I flitted into the dim corridor, with Lady
Tumour's blue bag dutifully slipped on my arm.
" No," I answered. " I 'm hiding. I know that sounds
mysterious, or melodramatic, or something silly, but
it 's only disagreeable. And it 's what I want to ask
your advice about." Then, shamefacedly when it came
to the point, I unfolded the tale of Monsieur Charretier.
"By Jove, and he's in this house!" exclaimed the
chauffeur, genuinely interested, and not a bit sulky.
i> ^
I M i
THE MOTOR MAID ,17
"You have n't an idea whether he 's been actually track-
ing you?" •'
1 "" ^^ ^?' !l^°'"'* ^^^^ employed detectives, and
clever ones too," I said, defending my own strateg/.
Is he the sort of man who would do such a tW-
put detectives on a girl who 's run away from home to get
nd of his attentions?" ^
"I don't know. I only know he has no idea of being
a ^ntleman. What can you expect of Com Plasters ?"
Don t throw his com plasters in his face. He might
be a good fellow m spite of them."
"Well, he is n't -or with them, either. He may
be acting with my cousin's husband, who values him
immensely, and wants him in the family."
"Is he very rich?"
''Disgustingly," said I. as I had said to Lady Kilmamy.
Yet you bolted from a good home, where you had
eveiy comfort, rather than be pestered to many him?"
f ^., 7^*.'^'' ^""^ '^" * '^°^ ^°™^'' *»d 'every com-
fort ? I had enough to eat and drink, a sunny room,
decent clothes, and was n't d to work except fo^
Cousin Catherine. But that my idea of goodness
and comfort." ^
"Nor mine either."
"Yet you seem surprised at me."
"I was thinking that, little and fragile as you look -
like a dehcate piece of Dresden china -you 're a brave
"Oh thank youl" I cried. I do love to be called
brave better than anything, because I 'm really such a
coward. You don't think I 've don. wrong?"
!l
118
THE MOTOR MAID
I-
1^*
t?
iTjj^
*'No-o. So far as you 've told me."
"What, don't you believe I 've told you the truth?"
I flashed out.
"Of course. But do women ever tell the whole truth
to men — even to their brothers ? What about that
kind friend of yours in England ?"
"What kind friend?" I asked, confused for an instant.
Then I remembered, and — almost — chuckled. The
conversation I had had with him came back to me, and I
recalled a queer look on his face which had puzzled me
till I forgot it. Now I was on the point of blurting out:
"Oh, the kind friend is a Miss Paget, who said she'd
like to help me if I needed help," when a spirit of mischief
seized me. I determined to keep up the little mystery
I 'd inadvertently r^ade. " I know," I said gravely.
" Quite a different kind of friend."
" Some one you Uke better than Monsieur Charretier ? "
"Much better."
"Rich, too?"
"Very rich, I believe, and of a noble family."
" Indeed 1 No doubt, then, you are wise, even from a
worldly point of view, in refusing the man your people
want you to marry, and taking — such extreme measures
not to let yourself be over persuaded," said Mr. Dane,
stiflSy, in a changed tone, not at all friendly or nice, as
before. " I meant to advise you not to go on to England
with Lady Tumour, as the whole situation is so unsuitable;
but now, of course, I shall say no more."
"It was about something else I wanted advice," I
reminded him. "But I suppose I rust have bored you.
You suddenly seem so cross."
■ p^'-
THE MOTOR MAID 119
"^ "'^J'^'ll'' *^^ '«^t cross," he returned, ferociously
my^s^uM I be? -even if I had a right ~'l
"Not the right of a brother?"
''Hang the rights of a brother!" exclaimed Mr. Dane,
rhen don t you want to be my brother any more ?"
the^tZ!^ r'^^'°°^ °^' " ^^^ ^*^P^' ^^^ the corridor,
then turned abruptly and came back. "It is n't a question
of what I want," said he, " but of what I can have ^ sle!
t:mes I thnk that after all you 're nothing bu an out
rageous httle flirt."
"Sometimes? Why, you 've only known me two days
As if you could judge I " ^
the'tl" ^ '' ^~"' ""^ '° J"^Se. But it seems as though
the two days were two years." ^
"Thank you. Well. I may be a flirt - the Frpn.K -^
0 me, when the other side is n't loolg B^ut ^^^
flirting with yoM." ^' ^"^ ^ m not
™S ZlZr ""^ ^°" "™ '"'""^ -•"■ «
of "^'^; fj^ f '■^"'^ ^ ' '™ """er things to think
You 've been too unkind " ^ ^^^^ °^^ *«'
let me help you. I want to yer^ much." ^™ '°'' »"''
__ I just said I would n't if you begged."
I don t beg. I insist. I'll inflict my advice on you,
fi.
If
\^ '-,:
I
120 THE MOTOR MAID
whether you like it or not. It 's this: get the man out
of Avignon the first thing to-morrow morning."
"That *s easy to sayl"
"And easy to do — I hope. What would be his first
act, do you think, if he got a wire from you, dated Genoa,
and worded something like this: 'Hear you are following
me. I send this to Avignon on chance, to tell you per-
secution must cease or I will find means to protect myself.
Lysd'Angely.'"
"I think he 'd hurry off to Genoa as fast as he could go
— by trwn, leaving his car, or sending it on by rail. But
how could I date a telegram from Genoa ?"
" I know a man there who "
"Elise, I 'm astonished at youl" exclaimed the shocked
voice of Lady Tumour. "Talking in corridors with
strange young men! and you've been out, too, without
my permission, and wUh my jewel-bagl How dare
you?"
"I have n't been out," I ventured to contradict.
"Then you were going out "
"And I had no intention of going out "
"Don't answer me back like thatl I won't stand it.
What are you doing in your hat, done up in a thick veil,
too, at this time of night, as if you were afraid of being
recognized?"
I had to admit to myself that appearances were dread-
fully against me. I didn't see how I could give any
satisfactory explanation, and while I was fishing wildly in
my brain without any bait, hoping to catch an inspiration,
the chauffeur spoke for me.
"If your ladyship will permit me to explain," he began,
THE MOTOR MAID 121
more respectfully than I 'd heard him speak to anyone
yet, It IS my fault ma'mselle is dressed as she is."
"What on earth is he going to say ?" I wondered wildly
as he paused an instant for Lady Tumour's consent!
which perhaps an amazed silence gave. I believed that
he did n t know himself what to say.
"I wanted your ladyship's maid, when she had nothing
else to do, to put on her out-of-door things and let
me make a sketch of her for an illustrated newspaper
I sometimes draw for. Naturally she did n't care for
her face to go into the paper, so she insisted upon
a veil. My sketch is to be called, 'The Motor Maid '
and I shall get half a guinea for it, I hope, of which it '3
my intention to hand ma'mselle five shillings for obliging
me. I hope your ladyship does n't object to my earning
something extra now and then, so long as it does n't
interfere with work?"
"Well," remarked Lady Tumour, taken aback by
this extraordinary plea, as well she might have been, "I
don't like to tell a person out and out that I don't believe
a word he says, but I do go as far as this: I '11 believe you
when I see you making the sketch. And as for earning
extra money, I should have thoughv Sir Samuel paid good
enough wages for you to be willing to smoke a pipe and
rest when your day's work was done, instead of gadding
about corridors gossiping with lady's-maids who 've no
business to be outside their own room. But if you 're so
greedy after money -- and if you want me to take EUse's
word "
"I 'n just begin the sketch in your ladyship's presence,
If I may be excused," said Mr. Dane, briskly. And to
Pi
/
122
THE MOTOR MAID
my real surprise, as well as relief, he whipped a small
canvas-covered sketch-book out of his pocket. It was
almost like sleight of hand, and if he 'd continued the
exhibition with a few live rabbits and an anaconda or
two I could n't have been much more amazed.
"I 'd like to have a look at that thing," observed Lady
Tumour, suspiciously, as in a business-like manner he
proceeded to release a neatly sharpened pencil from an
elastic strap.
Without a word or a guilty twitch of an eyelid he handed
her the book, and we both stood watching while the fat,
heavily ringed and rosily manicured fingers turned over
the pagpes.
He could sketch, I soon saw, better than I can, though
I 've (more or less) made my living at it. There were
types of French peasants done in a few strokes, here
and there a suggestion of a striking bit of mountain
scenery, a quaint cottage, or a ruined castle. Last of
all there was a very good representation of the Aigle,
loaded up with the Tumours* smart luggage, and
ready to start. My lips twitched a little, despite the
strain of the situation, as I noted the exaggerated size of
the crest on the door panel. It turned the whole thing
into a caricature; but luckily her ladyship missed the
point. She even allowed her face to relax into a faint
smile of pleasure.
"This is n't bad," she condescended to remark.
"I thought of asking your ladyship and Sir Samuel if
there would be any objection to my sending that to a
Society mot«yring paper, and labelling it 'Sir Samuel
and Lady Turw^w's new sixty-horse-power Aigle on tour
^^ ^
THE MOTOR MAID 123
in Provence/ Or, if you would prefer my not using your
name, l * * •
"I see no reason why you should not use it," her lady-
ship cut in hastily, "and I'm sure Sir Samuel won't
nund. Make a little extra money in that way if you Uke,
\ hile we 're on the road, as you have this talent."
She gave him back the book, quite graciously, and
the chauffeur began sketching me. In three minutes
there I was -the "abominable little flirt!" in hat and
veil, with Lady Tumour'i bag in my hand, quite a neat
ngure of a motor maid.
'•You may put, if you Hke, 'Lady Tumour's maid,'"
said that young person's mistress, "if you think it would
give some personal interest to your sketch for the paper."
Oh, this is for quite a different sort of thing," he
explained. "Not devoted to society news at all: more
for caricatures and funny bits."
"Oh, then I should certainly not wish my name to
appear m that," returned her ladyship, her tone adding
that, on the other hand, such a pubHcation was as suitable
as It was welcome to a portrait of me.
"Now, Elise, I wish you to take those things off at
once, and come to my room," she finished. "Mind I
don't want you should keep me waitingi And you can
hand over that bag."
No hope of another word between us! Mr. Jack Dane
saw this, and that it would be unwise to try for it. Pocket-
ing the sketch-book, he saluted Lady Tumour with a
linger to the height of his eyebrows, which gesture visibly
added to her sense of importance. Then, without glancing
at me, he tumed and walked off.
I
ft
124
THE MOTOR MAID
It was not until he had disappeared round the bend of
the corridor that her ladyship thought it light to
leave me.
I knew that she had made this little expedition in search
of her maid with the sole object of seeing what the mouse
did while the cat was away — a trick worthy of her
lodging-house past I And I knew equally well that
before I tapped at her door a little later she had examined
the contents of the blue bag to make sure that I had
extracted nothing. How I pity the long procession of
"slaveys" who must have followed each other drearily
in that lodging-house under the landlady's jurisdiction.
They, poor dears, could have had no chauffeur friends to
save them from daily perils, and it is n't likely that their
mistress allowed such luxuries as postmen or policemen.
w
CHAPTER XI
I DECIDED to have u,y b«,kf«t veiy early ,««
""' Mr. Dane should walk into the couriera' room
oeen lying in wait for me to appear.
i>X.x^t"e^;^r^'ZTLTwt:i'
situation was to be."
"The situation f " I repeated blankly.
qua^S""- ^ I '"understand that we've
Hffi^r. I^'" ' '"'^- "^'" '™" on S-wd grounds it 'a
Aflioult to keep on ,uar«lU„g with a ^n'^l o )t"„
only brought up your dinner and sauced it witS
^«ce,_but saved you from -from the «J ^t
■•I hope she did n't row you any more afterward ?"
u.aT- u ^^ '°° """'^ interested, all the time I was
undre^mg her, in speculating about Monsieur CharroZ
to Sir Samuel. I. seems that they struck up an ac^^rnt-
ance^over their coffee on the strength of a^little ^p":::;
e.Iwl™"'"."^' '°,'r^"^ them -throw them at
«ch others heads. Monsieur CharroUer - Alphoasc
at '
i
m
126
THE MOTOR MAID
M he once asked me to call him I — told her he was on hia
way to Cannes, where he heard that a friend of his, whom
it was very necessary for him to see, was visitmg a Russian
Princess. He had stopped in Avignon, he said, because
he was expecting the latest news of the friend, a change
of address, perhaps; and — I don't know who proposed
it, but anyway he arranged to go with Sir Samuel and
Lady Tumour to the Palace of the Popes at ten o'clock.
Her ladyship was quite taken with him, and remarked
to Sir Samuel that there was nothing so fascinating as a
French gentleman of the haut monde. Also she pro-
nounced his broken English 'awed.* She wondered if
he was married., and whether the friend in Cannes was
a woman or a man. Little did she know that her maid
could have enlightened her! Their joining forces here
is, as my American friend Pamela would say, 'the
limit: "
"Don't worry. The Palace of the Popes won't see
him to-day," said the chauffeur. " He 's gone. Got a
telegram. Did n't even wait for letters, but told the
manager to forward anything that came for him, Poste
Restante, Genoa."
"Oh, then you "
"Acted for you on my own responsibility. There was
nothing else to do, if anything were to be done; and you *d
seemed to fall in with my suggestion. It would have been
a pity, I thought, if your visit to Avignon were to be
spoiled by a thing like that."
"Meanirg Monsieur Charretier? I hardly slept last
night for dwelling on the pity of it."
" It 's all right, then ? I have n't put my foot into it ? "
THE MOTOR MAID 127
''Your foot! You 've put your brain* into it. You
said the other night that I had presence of mind. It was
nothing to yours."
"All 's forgotten and forgiven, then ?'*
*'It 's forgotten that there was anything to forgive."
"And the *motor maid' business? You didn't think
it too clumsy?"
" I thought it most ingenious."
"It was n't a lie, you know. I have n't a happy talent
for lymg. I do, or rather did when I had nothing else
on hand, send occasional sketches to a paper. But the
more I look at my 'motor maid,' the more I feel I should
like to keep her— in my sketch-book — if you 're wiUinir
I should have her?"
"Then I don't get my promised five shillings?" I
laughed.
"I'll try and make up the loss to vou in some other
way."
"I have you to thank that I did n't lose my situation.
So the debt is on my side."
"You owe me the scolding you got. I ought n't to
have lured you into the corridor."
'' It was on my business. And there was no other way."
"It was my business to have thought of some other
way."
"Are you your sister's keeper?"
"I wish I Look here, mademoiselle ma soeur,
I m all out of repartees. Perhaps I shall be better after
breakfast. I shall be able to eat, now that I know you 've
forgiven me."
"I don't believe you would care if I had n't," I
j1;
If
-. f.
*4
K
128
THE MOTOR MAID
■4
; !
%
are so stolid, so phlegmatic, you
exclaimed. "You
Englishmen!"
"Do you think so? Well, it would have been a little
awkward for me to have taken you about on a sight-
seeing expedition this morning if we were at daggers
drawn — no matter how appropriate the situation might
have been to Avignon manners of the Middle Ages, when
everybody was either torturing everybody else or fighting
to the death."
"Are you going to take me about?"
"That 's for you to say."
"Is n't it for Lady Tumour to say ?"
"Sir Samuel told me last night that I should n't be
wanted till two o'clock, as he was going to see the town
with her ladyship. He wanted to know if we could sand-
wich in something else this afternoon, as he considered
a whole day too much for one place. I suggested Vaucluse
for the afternoon, as it 's but a short spin from Avignon,
and I just happened to mention that her ladyship might
find use for you there, to follow her to the fountain with
extra wraps in case of mistral. I thought, of all places
you *d hate to miss Vaucluse . And we 're to come back
here for the night."
I feared that Monsieur Charretier's sudden disap-
pearance might upset the Tumours' plans, but Mr. Dane
did n't think so. He had impressed it upon Sir Samuel
that no motorist who had not thoroughly "done" Avignon
and Vaucluse would be tolerated in automobiling circles.
He was right in his surmise, and though her ladyship
was vexed at losing a new acquaintance whom it would
have been "nice to know in Paris," she resigned herself
THE MOTOR MAID 129
for the morning to the society of husband and Baedeker.
It was hnd old Sir Samuel's proposal that I should be
eft free to do some sfght-seeing on my own account while
they were gone (I had meant to break my own shackles);
and though my lady laughed to scorn the idea that a irirl
of my class should care for historical associatio s,
she granted me Kberty provided I utilized it in buying
hercertain stay-laces, shoe-strings, and other small horrors
for which no woman enjoys shopping.
When she and Sir Samuel were oui of the way, as safely
disposed of as Monsieur Chanetier himself, I felt so
extrava^ntly happy in reaction, after all my worries, that
I danced a j.g m her ladyship's sacred bedchamber.
Then I prepared to start for my own personally con-
ducted expedition; and this time I took no great pains
to do my hair unbecomingly. Naturally, I did n't want
to be a jamng note in harmonious Avignon, so I made
myself look rather attractive for my jaunt with the
cnauffeur.
He was sauntering casually about the Place before the
hotel, where long ago Marshal Brune was assassinated,
and we walked away together as calmly as if we had been
followed by a whole drove of well-trained chaperons.
When one has joined the ranks of the lower classes, one
might as well reap some advantages from the changel
What we'll do," said Mr. Dane, "is to look first
at all the things the Tumours are sure to look at
last. By that plan we shall avoid them, and as I know
my way about Avignon pretty well, you may set your
mmdatrest." j j ^
I can think of nothing more delightful than a day in
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THE MOTOR MAID
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Avignon, with an agreeable brother and — a mind at rest.
I had both, and made the most of them.
When her ladyship's shoe-strings and stay-laces were
off my mind and in my coat pocket, we wandered lei-
surely about the modem part of the wonderful town, which
has been busier through the centuries in making history
than almost any other in France. Seen by daylight, I
no longer resented the existence of a new — comparatively
new — Avignon. The pretty little theatre, with its
dignified statues of Comeille and Moli^re, seemed to invite
me kindly to go in and listen to a play by the splendidly
bewigged gentlemen sitting in stone chairs on either side
of the door. The clock tower with its "Jacquemart"
who stiffly struck the quarter hours with an automatic
arm, while his wife criticized the gesture, commanded
me to stop and watch his next stroke; and the curiosity
shops offered me the most alluring bargains. People
we met seemed to have plenty of time on their hands,
and to be very good-natured, as if rich Proven9al cooking
agreed with their digestions.
Sure that the Tumours would be at the Palace of the
Popes or in the Cathedral, we went to the Museum, and
searched in vain among a riot of Roman remains for the
tomb of Petrarch's Laura, which guide-books promised.
In the end we had to be satisfied with a memorial cross
made in the lovely lady's honour by order of some romantic
Englishmen.
"Yet you say we 're stolid and phlegmatic 1" muttered
Mr. Dane, as he read the inscription. (Evidently that
remark had rankled.)
We had not a moment to waste, but the Tumours had
THE MOTOR MAID 131
to he avc«ded; so my brother proposed that we combine
profit with prudence, and take a cab along the road lead-
irjg out to Port St. Andr^. Where the ancient tower of
Philippe le Bel crowns a lower slope I should have
my first sight of that grim mountain of architecture, the
Palace of the Popes. It was the best place from which to
see It, if Its real grandeur were to be appreciated, he said
-or else to go to Villeneuve, across the Rhdne, which
we dared not steal time to do; but the Tumours were
certain not to think of anything so esoteric in the way of
sight-seeing. '^
The va^tness of the stupendous mass of brick and stone
took my breath away for an instant, as I raised my eyes
to look up, on a signal of "Now!" from Mr. Dane It
seemed as if all the history, not alone of Old Provence
but of France, might be packed away behind those
tremendous buttresses.
Of what romances, what tragedies, what triumphs, and
what despairs could those huge walls and towers tell, if
the echoes whispering through them could crystallize into
words!
There Queen Jeanne of Naples -that fateful Marie
btuart of Provence -stood in her youth and beauty
before her accusers, knowing she must buy her pardon,
if for pardon she could hope. There the wretched Bishop
of Cahors suffered tortures incredible for plots his enemies
vowed he had conceived against the Pope. There came
messages from Western Kings and Eastern Emperors;
there Bertrand du Guesclin, my favourite hero, was
excommunicated: and there great Rienzi lay in prison.
Now I think we might risk going to the Palace," said
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THE MOTOR MAID
Mr. Dane, when we had stood gazing in silence for more
minutes than we could well afford. So we made haste
back, and walked up to the Rochers des Doms, where we
lurked cautiously in the handsome modem gardens,
glorying in the view over the old and new bridges, and
to far off Villeneuve, where the Man in the Iron Mask
was first imprisoned. When we had admired the statue
of Althen the Persian, with his hand full of the beneficent
madder that did so much for Provence, we were rewarded
for our patience by seeing Sir Samuel and Lady Tumour
rush out from the Papal Palace, looking furious.
"They look like that, because they 've been inside,"
said the chauffeur. "Their souls aren't artistic enough
to resent consciously the min and degradation of the
place, but even they can be depressed by the hideous
whitewashed barracks which were once splendid rooms,
worthy of kings. You will look as they do if
you go in."
" I hope my cheeks would n't be dark purple and my
nose a pale lilac! " I exclaimed.
"You 're twenty, at most, and Lady Tumour 's forty-
five, at least," said my brother. "You can stand the pinch
of Mistral; but the inside of that noble old pile is enough
to turn the hair gray. It would be much more original
to let your imagination draw the picture."
"Then I willl" I cried, knowing that nothing pleases
a man more in a girl than taking his advice. By the late-
ness of the hour we judged that the Tumours must have
visited the Cathedral before they "did" the Palace, so
we went boldly on to Notre Dame des Doms, beloved of
Charlemagne.
THE MOTOR MAID 133
.ng from the rum, Saracens Ud feftl Nothing could be
more glonou, than the situation of the historic chu^h
once fi^ ,„ .mpj,rt.nce, perhaps, i„ «„ Christendom;
" r^"« ~" ^ ** '"">'« P"«'y <=><«»!■= than the wes
porch W. strained the muscles of our necks sta^"'
up at ancent fading f,«coes, and rested them agaif
m gaang at famous tombs; then it was time to gf if
we were not to start for Vaucluse too hungry to M
satisfactonly on thoughts of Lau» and Petrarch
• fcl5l"'.I^°"' """ """«'' "'* *« ««>«' be'^." I
to the couners' dining-room."
"I thought that we might have our own private trough
just this once .f you don't object," said the chauffeur
a W wistftaHy. " It would be a shame to spoil the meml
oiy of a perfect mommg, would n't it, so don't you think
you might accept my humble invitation ?"
I hesitated.
"Is it conventionality or economy that rives vr„
^uset" he asked. "K it -s the dtt^.^ofZ^
r^rd for my p«,ket. your conscience can be easy. My
pocket feels heavy and my heart light to.day. I Mem-
ber a httle restaurant not far off where they do you in
greats yieforafrancortwo. Willy„ucome,^thme?"
He looked quite eager, and I felt myself unable to
re^st temptation. "Yes," said I, "and thank you."
A bibng wind, more like Mareh than flowery April
"early blew us down into the town, and I was glad to
find shelter in the warm, clean little restaurant.
/. my nose lilac after all f " I inq,,,-^, „t,„ ^ j^
s
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THE MOTOR MAID
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old smiling waiter had trotted off with our order, mup-
muring benevolently, "Doude de zuide, M'sieur," like
a true compatriot of Tartarin.
"A faint pink from the cheeks is undeniably reflected
upon it," admitted the chauffeur. "We 're going to
be let in for a cold snap as we get up north," he
went on. **I read in the papers this morning that
there *s been a 'phenomenal fall of snow for the season'
on the Cevennes and the mountains of Auvergne. Do
you weaken on the Gorges of the Tarn now I 've told
you that?"
"Mine not to reason why. Mine but to do or die," I
transposed, smiling \vith conspicuous bravery.
"Not at all. It's yours to choose. I haven't even
broken the Gorges, yet, to the slaves of my hypnotic
powers. I warn you that, if all the papers say about
snow is true, we may have adventures on the way. Would
you rather "
"I *d rather have the adventures," I broke in, and
had as nearly as possible added "with you," but I
stopped myself in time.
We lunched more gaily than double-dyed millionaires,
and afterward, while my host was paying away his hard-
earned francs for our food, I slipped out of the restaurant
and into a little shop I had noticed close by. The window
was full of odds and ends, souvenirs of Avignon; and
there were picture-postcards, photographs, and coins
with heads of saints on them. In passing, on the way to
lunch, I *d noticed a silver St. Christopher, about the
size of a two-franc piece; and as the Aigle carries the
saint like a figure-head, a glittering, golden statuette six
THE MOTOR MAID ,35
or seven inch., high. I had gue«ed that St. Christopher
of p«ta>n saint for motora and motorists.
theS''' "" '■""' "' **""" ' '*«'■ P<>'»«»8 to
It was ten francs, a good deal more than I could afford
more than half my whole remaning fortune. "Could n^
at lady whose extremely aquiline nose p,«laimed that
U.e %ure well ch.^rrre:!::rer h^e "Xpit"
automobde. No accident would presume to happen to
one who earned th<u on his pe,«,„. MadamfLT
however, other coins of St. Christopher, smaller c^in^'
white metal which could sc»reely'^be told f^m Ze,
If mademoiselle wished to see tl-om >•
But mademoiselle did not wish to see them. It would
be worse than nothing to give a base imitation, taead
of feehng flattered. St. Christopher would have a S
to be annoyed, and perhaps to pmiish. Recklesslv I
passed across the counter ten francs, and madrthe
coveted saint mine. Then I darted ™t, [usHn uL:
'° "'f! "'-, ""-^ ■" *- d- of the restaurant.
This ,s for you," I said. "I, '« to give you luck."
I pressed the coin into his hand, ani heUed at it
on h.s open palm. For an instant I was afiaid he w„
going to make fun of it, and mv sunerstitinn T *
it ml.;„i, T 1, , ^ superstition concermni;
Lw M T!'^ " * ^"^*" ^^°y ^f cross ^luestioned
But his smile did n't mean that. ««"onea.
MitaM
136 THE MOTOR MAID
"You 've just bought this — to give to me ?" he asked.
"Yes," I nodded.
"Why? Not because you want to 'pay me back' for
asking you to lunch — or any such villainous thing, I
hope, because "
I shook my head. "I did n't think of that. I got it
because I wanted to bring you luck."
Then he slipped the coin into an inside pocket of his
coat. "Thank you," he said. "But did n't I tell you
that you 'd brought me something better than luck
aheady?"
"What t» better than luck?"
"An interest in Ufe. And the privilege of being a
brother."
■M*-!
CHAPTER XII
IT WOULD be a singularly hard-headed, cold-heart*^
"run in otl^li."!'*'' '^^ "^^ ~W hearts don't
de iC^ rf afte^tl'^M ri'""*^*«°*«»
felt that I w«, 1 . ** ^^^'^^ *^»* afternoon I
leit that I was largely composed of thrill. Cold « t}l
wind had grown, the thriU kept me wann r^nL" ^
my veins with ozone ' mmghng m
about the 'phenomenal fall of snow" in *u ^.P®"
ma^efc po. , „„ » M- Danes
- he.'' e7t tr« tr '^'''"^ ^ "-'^
what are aueen, IT' ° """' *" """'^ '<"
the feet b^ "u,^ v'.""* "™'"»'' '"ft-h-nte^ ;f
•» eoldf Yet now that "adventures" were
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138
THE MOTOR MAID
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vaguely prophesied, I felt I could not give up the
promised gorges and mountains.
Out of Avignon we slid, past the old, old ramparts and
the newer but impressive walls, and turned at the right
into the Marseilles road. "Vauclusel" said a kilometre-
stone, and then another and another repeated th%t
enchanted and enchanting word, as we flew onward
between the Rhdne and the Durance.
This was our own old way again, as far as the Pont de
Bonpas; then our road wound to the northeast, away
from the world we knew — I said to myself — and into
a world of romance, a world created by the love of Petrarch
for Laura, and sacred to those two for ever more.
The ruined castle, with machicolated towers and
haughty buttresses, on the great rampart of a hill, was
for me the porter's lodge at the entrance gate of an
enchanted garden, where poetic flowers of love bloomed
through seasons and centuries; laurels, roses, and lilies,
and pansies for remembrance. We did n't see those
flowers with our bodies' eyes, but what of that? What
did it matter that to the Tumours in their splendid glass
cage this was just a road, with queer little gnome dwellings
scooped out of solid rock to redeem it from com ii-
placeness, with a fringe of deserted cottages f; . her
on, and some ugly brickworks? My spirit's eyes sa\v the
flowers, and they clustered thicker and brighter about
Pieverde, where I insisted to Mr. Dane that Laura had
been bom.
He was inclined to dispute this at first, and bring up
the horrid theory that the pure white star of Petrarch's
life had been a ^re Madame de Sade, with a drove of
THE MOTOR MAID ,3.
me t! *^ M t' ' ^ P«""«ded him to agree with
eyed love. Wr «,d tall „ a BIy M^T^ ' ^*"
the violets, wh™ I,,, ,"'yi'"""'8 ""he grass among
and «ve™„u; ' "' «'"■' "•™"' ^*"»'"»e noiselessly
"white dZl-'u ?^"^ "'""K'"^ of I^"™, that
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THE MOTOR MAID
No farther than the inn could any wheeled tlung go;
and having justified my presence by buttoning Lady
Tumour up in ber (otit, and finding her muff under
several rugs, I stood by the car, gazing after the couple
as they trudged off along the path to the hidden fairy
fountain of Vauclusr * . ' "^n Uiey should have got well
ahead I meant to go •<•, foi if a cat may look at a king,
a lady's nuud may t •; '<> ^ rrnk — if she can — a few drops
from the cup of a ^r a,i p^t's inspiration. A first I
resented those two iniii»i.', richly clad, prosaic backs
marching sturdily to^ rd .. ». .. ," untain; then sud-
denly the back ol fii 3:. v.i liecame pathetic in my
eyes. Hadn't he, ask ^ . lyself , loved his Emily
("Emmie, pet," as I Ve hear<; .iim call her) as long and
faithfully as Petrarch loved his Laura? Perhaps, after
all, he had earned the right to visit this shrine.
Rocks shut out from our sight the distant fountain,
and the last windings of the path that led to it, clasping
the secret with great stone arms, like those of an Othello
jealously guarding his young wife's beauty from eyes
profane.
"Aren't you going now?" asked my brother, with a
certain wistfulness.
"Ye-es. But what about you?"
"Oh, I 've been here before, you know."
"Don't you believe in second times? Or is a second
time always second best?"
"Not when Of course I want to go. But 1 can't
leave the car alone."
My eyes wandered toward the inn door. "There's
a boy there who looks as if he were bom to be a
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THE MOTOR MAID 14,
VCMI ~
"No I could n't." he said decidedly. "At a place Uke
^s, wheie the« are a lot of tourists about, it would n't
be nght It was different at Valescure, when I took
you in TO lunch."
••You mean I must n't make that a precedent."
1 don t mean anything conceited."
•'But you won't desert Mr. Micawber. I beUeve I
shall name the car Micawber! Well, then. I must go
d dll'e7-!!l'' ' ''-'''' '^" '-"^ ''^ ^-^» -^
JT^'^ n ^ "°"'*'"'*' *"^ ^**"'* ^° "ytWng foolish."
said Mr. Dane, sternly, whereupon I t^med^ny ba^k
upon h,m and plunged into the cool shadows of the
gorp. The great white cliff of Umestone was my wal
and always it towere.! ahead, as I followed the nar^
pathway above the singing water. I sighed as I paused
o look at a garden which maybe once was Petiirch's,
for .t was sad to find my way to fairjrland. alone. Even
I thought' '"^^"^ """"'"^ ^""^ '^^ ^***' *^*" "°"^'
Soon I met my master and mistress coming back.
There was nothing much to see, said her ladyship.
shaiply and I must n't be long; but Sir Samuel ventui^
to plead with her.
'•Let the girl have ten minutes or so, if she Ukp^. dear "
said he. "We '11 be wanting a cup of hot coffee U i \e
mn^ And it is a pretty place." There was something
•n his voice which told me that he would havp fdt th^
charm — if his bride had let him.
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142
THE MOTOR MAID
Pools of water, deep among the rocks, were purple-
pansy colour or beryl green; but the "Source" itself,
in its cup of stone, was like a block of malachite. There
was no visible bubbling of underground springs fighting
their way up to break the crystal surface of the fountain,
— this fountain so unlike any other fountain; but to the
listening ear came a moaning and rushing of unseen
waters, now the high crying of Arethusa escaping from
her pursuing lover, now rich, low notes as of an organ
played in a vast cavern.
Above the gorge, the towering rocks with their huge
holes and archways hollowed out by turbulent water
in dim, forgotten ages, looked exactly as if the whole
front wall had been knocked off a giant's castle, exposing
its secret labyrinths of rough-hewn rooms, floor rising
above floor even to the attics where the giant's servants
had lived, and down to the cellars where the giant's pet
dragons were kept in chains.
I had n't yet exhausted my ten minutes, though I began
to have a guilty consciousness that they would soon be
gone, when I heard a step behind me, and turning, saw
Mr. Dane.
"They 're having coffee in the car," he said "Sir
Samuel proposed it to his wife, as if he thought it would
be rather more select and exclusive for her than drinking
it in the inn; but I have a sneaking suspicion that it
was because he wanted to let me off. Not a bad old
boy. Sir Samuel."
So we saw the fountain of Vaucluse together, after all.
I don't know why that should have seemed important
to me, but it did — a little.
THE MOTOR MAID 143
We did n't say much to each other, all the way back to
Avignon, but I felt that the day had been a brilliant
success, and was sure that the next could not be as good.
"What — not with St. Remy and Les Baux?" exclaimed
my brother. But I knew very little about St. Remy,
and still less about Les Baux. For a minute I was
ashamed to confess, but then I told myself that this was
a much worse kind of vanity than being pleased with the
colour of one's hair or the length of one's eyelashes. Mr.
Jack Dane was too polite to show surprise at my igno-
rance; but that evening, just as I was getting ready to go
down to dinner, up he came with a tray, as he had the
night before; and on the tray, among covered dishes, was
a book.
"Two of your chaufiFeur^admirers from Aix are in the
dinin^room," he said, "so I thought you 'd rather stop
up in your room and read T. A. Cook's 'Old Provence,'
than go downstairs. Anyway, it w'11 be better for you."
I was half angry, half flattered that he should arrange
my life for me in this off-hand way, whether I liked it or
not; but the French half of me will do almost anything
rather than be ungracious; and it would have been
ungracious to say I was tired of dining in my room, and
could take care of myself, when he had given himself
the trouble of carrying up my dinner. So I swallowed
all less obvious emotions than meek gratitude for food,
physical and mental; and was soon so deeply absorbed
in the delightful book that I forgot to eat my pudding.
I sat up late with it — the book, not the pudding —
after putting Lady Tumour to bed (almost literally,
because she thinks it refined to be helpless), and when
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THE MOTOR MAID
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morning came I was no longer disgracefully ignorant of
St. Remy and Les Baux.
Mr. Dane had mapped out the programme of places
to see, using Avignon as a centre, and there were so
many notabiUties at the Hotel de I'Europe following
the same itinerary, with insignificant variations, that
Lady Tumour was quite contented with the arrange-
ments made for her.
^^ Morning was for St. Remy ; afternoon was for Les Baux,
"because the thing is to see the sunset there," I heard
her telling an extremely rich-looking American lady,
laying down the law as if she had planned the whole trip
herself, with a learned reason for each detail.
The way to St. Remy was along a small but pretty
country road, which had a misleading air, as if it did n't
want you to think it was taking you to a place of any
importance. And yet we were in the heart of Mistral-
land; not Mistral the east wind, but Mistral the poet
of Provence, great enough to be worthy of the land he
loves, great enough to cany on the glory of it to future
generations. At any moment we might meet a Fellore.
I looked with interest at each man we saw, and some
looked back at me with flattering curiosity; for a
woman's eyes are almost as mysterious behind a three-
cornered talc window as behind a yashmak, or zenana
gratings.
St. Remy itself — birthplace of Nostradamus, maker
of powders and prophecies — was charming in the sun-
light, with its straight avenue of trees like the pillars of
a long gray and green corridor in a vast palace; but we
swept on toward the "Plateau des Antiquities," up a
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THE MOTOR MAID 145
^p slope with St. Remy the modem at our backs-
at sight of the splendid Triumphal Archway and «ie
gracious Monument we had come out to see
Both looked more Greek than Roman, but that was
because Greek workmen helped to build them for Julius
?^\ r. ^" ^/**"^"^ th** posterity should not
forget his defeat of great Vercingetorix, and should do
justice to the memory of Marius.
When I was small I used to dislike poor Vercingetorix
and be glad that he had to surrender, V^that I^ht 1^'
nd of him, owing to the dreadful difficulty of pronounc
ing his name; but when we had got out of the
car and I saw him on the archway, a tall, carved
captive, who had kept his head through all the
Sr; ^f^ ^T' ^"^'^ * ^*"^ °" *^« prisoner's
shoulder) had lost bs, my heart softened to him for the
nrst time.
I thought the Triumphal Monument to Marius even
more beautif-:! than the Archway, and felt as angry as
Manus must, that the guide-books should take it away
from the hero and wrongfully call it a mausoleum for
somebody else. But Mr. Dane assured me with the
obstinate air people have when learned authorities back
their opinions, that the Arch was really the more interest-
ing of the two -the first Triumphal Archway set up
outside Italy, said he, and bade me reflect on that; still
I would turn my eyes toward the graceful monument,
so wickedly annexed by the thr« Julii, and then away
TV l^^u^ P'*'" '^^* '^^ ^"^**^ *^« 'Wd spur
of the AlpiUes. In the distance I could see Avignon
i I,
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146
THE MOTOR MAID
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and the pale, opal-tinted, gdd-veined hills that fold in
the fountain of Vaucluse. Never, since we came into
Provence, had I been able so clearly to realize the wild
fascination of her haggard beauty. "Here Marius
stood in his camp," I thought, "shading his eyes from
the fierce sun, and looking out over this strange, arid
country for the Barbarians he meant to conquer." My
heart beat with an intoxicating excitement, such as one
feeb on seeing great mountains or the ocean for the first
time; and then down I tumbled, with a bump, off my
pedestal, when Lady Tumour wanted to know what I
supposed she 'd brought me for, if not to put on her
extra cloak without waiting to be told.
Watches are really luxuries, not necessities, with the
Tumours, because their appetites always strike the
hour of one, and if they 're sometimes a little in advance,
they can be relied upon never to be behindhand. I knew
before I glanced at the little bracelet-watch Pamela gave
me (hidden under my sleeve) that it must be on the stroke
of half-past twelve when her ladyship began to complain
of the sharp wind, and say we had better be getting back
to St. Remy. She was cross, as usual when she is hungry,
and said that if I continued to go about "like a snail in a
dream" whenever she fetched me to carry her things on
these short expeditions, she would leave me in the hotel to
mend her clothes; whereupon I became actually servile
in my ministrations. I bmshed a microscopic speck of
dust off her gown; I pushed in a hairpin; I tucked up a
flying end of veil; I straightened her toque, and made
myself altogether indispensable; for the bare idea of
being left behind was a box on the ear. I could not
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THE MOTOR MAID 147
endure such a punishment - and the front seat would
look so empty, so unfinished, without me!
• As we went baclc down the steep hill from old Glanum
St. Remy appeared a little oasis of spring in the midst
of a winter which had come back for something it had
forgotten. All its surrounding orchards and gardens
screened from the shrewish Mistral by the shoulders of
the AJpilles, and again by lines of tall cypress trees and
netted, dry bamboos, had begun to bloom richly like
the earUer gardens on the Riviera. There was a pinky-
white haze of apple blossoms; and even the plane trees
m the long main street were hung with dainty, primrose-
coloured spheres, Uke little fairy lanterns. Not only
did every man seem a possible Felibre, but every girl wm
a beauty. Some of them wore a charming and becoming
head-dress, such as I never saw before, and the chauf-
feur said It was the head-dress of the women of Aries,
where we would go day after to-morrow.
Impertinent chauflFeurs or couriers would have been
more out of place in poetic St. Remy than the sensational
Nostradamus himself; and there was no trouble of that
sort for me in lunching at the pleasant, quiet hotel. Mr
Dane had bought :. French translation of Mistral's
Memoires," and as we ate, he and I alone together
he read me the incident of the child-poet and his three'
wettings in quest of the adored water-flowers. Nothing
could be more beautiful than the wording of the exquisite
thoughts, yet I wished we could have seen those thoughts
embodied in Proven9al, the language practically created
by Mistral, as Italian was by Dante and Petrarch, op
German by Goethe.
J ;
i
148
THE MOTOR MAID
Not far away lay Mas du Juge, described in the book,
where he was bom, and Maillane, where he lives, and I
longed to drive that way; but as the Tumours would
be sure to say that there was nothing to see, the chauffeur
thought it wiser not to turn out of our road. We might
find the poet at Aries, perhaps, in his museum there, or
lunching at the Hotel du Fomm, a favourite haunt of
his on museum days.
Starting for Les Baux, we tumed our faces straight
toward the wild little mountains loved by Mistral, his
dear Alpilles. They soon surrounded us in tumbling
gray waves, piled up on either side of the road as the
Red Sea must have tumultuously fenced in the path of
the Israelites. Strange, hummocky mountains were
everywhere, as far as we could see; mountains of incred-
ible, nightmare shapes, and of great ledges set with
gigantic busts of ancient heroes, some nobly carved,
some hideously caricatured, roughly hewn in gray lime-
stone, or red rock that looked like bronze. On we
went, climbing up and up, a road like a python's back;
but not yet was there any glimpse of the old "robber
fortress" of Les Baux about which I had read, and later
dreamed, last night I knew it would be wonderful,
astonishing, a Dead City, a Pompeii of the Feudal Age,
yet different from any other ancient town the whole
world over — a place of tangled histories; yet I tried
vainly to picture what it would be like. Then, sud-
denly, we reached a turn in that strange road which, if
it had led downhill instead of up, would have seemed
like the way Orpheus took to reach Hades.
We had come face to face with a huge chasm in the
THE MOTOR MAID 149
rock, a gap with sheer walls sliced clean down, like a
cut in a great cheese; and I felt instinctively that this
must be the dark doorway through which we should
see Les Baux.
Through the cut in the stone cheese our road carried
us; and the busts on the rocky ledges were so near now
we could almost have put out our hands and touched
them — but curiously enough, in this place of all others,
they were the likenesses of modem men. Mr. Dane
and I picked out an unmistakable Gladstone on the
right, a characteristic Beaconsfield on the left; and
farther on Mr. Chamberlain's head was fantastically
grafted on to the body of a prehistoric animal. We were
just tracing Pierpont Morgan's proBle, near a few of
Hannibal's elephants, when the car sprang clear of the
chasm, out upon the other side of the doorway; and
there rose before us Les Baux, a hundred times more
wonderful, more tragic, than I had hoped to find it
Far, far below our mountain road lay a valley so flat
that it might have been levelled on purpose for the tilting
of knights in great tournaments. Above and around us
(for suddenly we were in as well as under it) was a City
of Ghosts.
Huge masses of rock, like Titan babies' playthings,
had been hollowed out for dwellings, fit houses for our late
cousins the cave-dwellers. There were colossal pillars
and dark, high doorways such as one sees in pictures
of the temples at Thebes; but all this, said Mr. Jack
Dane, was merely a preface for what was yet to come, only
an immense quarry whence the stones to build Les Baux
had been torn. We were still on the road to the real Les
m
■\ •
150 THE MOTOR MAID
Baux; and even as he spoke, the Aigle was cUwing her
way bravely up a hill steeper than any we had mounted.
At the top she turned abruptly, and stopped in a queer,
forlorn little place, where to my astonishment our journey
ended in front of a small house ambitiously named
Hotel Monte Carlo. Then I remembered the stoiy
I had read: how a young prince of the Grimaldi family
came begging Louis XIII. to protect him from Spain;
how Louis, who didn't want Spain to grab Monaco,
promptly gave soldiers; how the Grimaldi's shrewd wit
did more to get the Spanish out of the Uttle principality
than did the fighting men from France; and how Louis,
as a reward, turned poor, war-worn Les Baux into a
Grimaldi marquisate.
That little episode in history accounted for the Hotel
Monte Carlo; and I wondered if it were put up on the
site of the Grimaldis* miniature pleasure-palace, which
the forest-burning revolutionists tore down just before
Les Baux, after all its strange passing from hand to
hand, became the property of the nation.
Against the rocks a few mean houses leaned apolo-
getically, but on every side rose the ruins of a proud, dead
past: a past beginning with the ruts of chariot-wheels
graven on the rock-paved street. I thought, as I looked
at the sordid little village of to-day, which had crawled
into the very midst of the fortress, of some words I 'd
read last night: "a rat in the heart of a dead princess."
Strange, haggard hill, whispered about by history ever
since Christians ran before Alaric the Visigoth, and hid
in its caverns already echoing with legends of mysterious
Phoenician treasure 1 Strange robber house of Les Baux,
•r^l
THE MOTOR MAID 151
founded thirteen hundred yean ago, and claiming half
Provence two centuries later! No wonder, after all the
fighting and plundering, loving and hating, that all it asks
now IS for its bleached, picked bones to be left in peacel
I thought this, standing by the little Hotel Monte
Cario, waiting for my mistress and her husband to be
supplied with a guide. He was the most intelligent and
efficient-seeming guide imaginable, who looked as if he had
the whole history of Les Baux behind his bright dark eyes-
and I hoped that the humble maid aud chauffeur might
be allowed to follow the "quality" within respectful
earshot.
Soon they began to walk on, and I turned to look at
my brother, who was lingering by the car. Already the
guide had begun to be interesting. I caught a few words:
Celtic caverns" — "Leibulf. the first Count" — "the
terrible Turenne. called the 'Fl^au de Provence' — the
Lady Alix's guardian "- which made me long to hear
more; but I did n't want to crawl on until my Fellow
Worm could crawl with me.
"I can't go." he said. "It would n't do to leave the
car here. There are several gipsy faces at the inn window,
you see. Why there should be gipsies I don't know;
but there are, for those are gipsies or I '11 eat my cap.'
And I 've got to keep watch on deck."
"How horrid to leave you here alone, seeing nothing —
not even the sunset! " I exclaimed. "I think I shall stop
with you, unless she calls me "
"You 11 do nothing of the kind," he had begun, when
the summons came, sooner than I had expected.
CHAPTER Xm
ELISE, come here and put what this guide is
saying into English," was the command, and I
flew to obey. To hear him tell what he knew
was like turning over the leaves of the Book of Les Baux;
and I tried to do him justice in my translation; but it was
disheartening to see Lady Tumour's lack-lustre gaze
wander as dully about the rock-hewn barracks of Roman
soldiers as if she had been in her own lodging-house
cellar, and to be interrupted by her complaints of the cold
wind as we went up the silent streets, past deserted
palaces of dead and gone noble;, toward the ciown of
all — the Ch&teau.
Nothing moved her to any show of interest in this
grave of mighty memories, of mighty warrior princes,
and of lovely ladies with names sweet as music and per-
fume of potpourri. Wandering in a splendid confusion
of feudal and mediaeval relics — walls with carved door-
ways, and doorways without walls; beautiful, purposeless
columns whose occupation had long been gone; carved
marvels of fireplaces standing up sadly from wrecked
floors of fair ladies' boudoirs or great banqueting halls,
the stout, painted woman broke in upon the guide's story
to talk of any irrelevant matter that jumped into her
mind. She suddenly bethought herself to scold Sir
Samuel about "Bertie," from whom a letter had evidently
IM
THE MOTOR MAID 153
been forwarded, and who had been spending too much
money to please her ladyship. ^
"That stepson of yours is a regular bad egg," said she.
Never you m.nd," retorted Sir Samuel, defending
h^^favounte. "Many a bad egg has turned over f
My lip quivered, but I fixed my e>-es firmly upon the
guide, who was now devoting his attention entirely to
h.s one respectful listener. I was ashamed of my «,m.
pamons. but I could n't help catching stray fragments of
the convereation. and the involuntary mixing of Bertie's
aflTa.^ with the Religious Wars, and the destruction of
Us Baux by Richelieu's soldiers, had a positively weird
effect on my mind. Bertie, it seemed - (or was it
Richelieu ?) was invited to visit at the chftteau of a French
marqms called de Roquemartine (or was it good Kinir
Ren^. who inherited Les Baux because he was a count
of Provence?), and the chateau was near Clermont-
Ferrand. Lady Tumour was of opinion that it would
be well to make a condition before sending the cheque
which Bertie wanted to pay his bridge debts (or was
hem debt because the Lady Douce and her sister Steph-
anette of Les Baux had quarrelled?). If the advice of
Dane, the chauffeur, were taken, they would be motoring
to Clermont-Ferrand; and why not say to Bertie- "No
cheque unless you get us an invitation to visit the Roque-
martmes while you are there?" (Or was it that they
wanted an invitation to the boudoir of Queen Jeanne,
Ren^s beloved wife, who lived at Les Baux sometimes,
and had veiy beautiful things around her - tapestries and
isastem rugs, and wondrous rosaries, and jewelled Books.
ikiA.
154
THE MOTOR MAID
ft
of Hours?) Really, it was very bewildering; but in my
despair one drop of comfort fell. That chAteau near
Clermont-Ferrand would prove a lodestar, and help Mr.
Jack Dane to lure the Tumours through chill goiges and
over snowy mountains.
"Ixxlestar" really was a good word for the attraction,
I thought, and I would repeat it to the chauffeur. But it
rose over the horizon of my intellect probably because the
guide talked of Countess Alix, last heiress of the great
House of Les Baux. " As she lay dying," he said, " the star
that had watched over and guided the fortunes of her
house came down from the sky, according to the legend,
and shone pale and sad in her bedchamber till she was
dead. Then it burst, and its light was extinguished in
darkness for ever."
Eventually Sir Samuel's eye brightened for the Tudor
rose decoraticHi, in the ruined chAteau, relic of an alliance
between an English princess and the House of Les Baux;
and Lady Tumour did n't interrupt once when the guide
told of the latest important discovery in the City of Ghosts.
"Near the altar of the Virgin here," he began, in just the
right, hushed tone, "they found in a tomb the body of
a beautiful young girl. There she lay, as the tomb was
opened, just for an instant — long enough for the eye to
take in the picture — as lovely as the loveliest lady of
Les Baux, that famed princess Cecilie, known through
Provence as Passe-Rose. Her long golden hair was in two
great plaits, one over either shoulder, and her hands
were crossed upon her breast, holding a Book of Hours.
But in a second, as the air touched her, she was gone like
a dream; her sweet young face, white as milk, and half
THE MOTOR MAID ,55
nailing, her long dark eythsh^, even the Book of Hou«
to Ari« you can aee it in the Muaeun. of uZZ
"Make a note of hair for Aries. Sam," said her ladv
a few woids n the pocket memomndum-book in which
Je poor inan industriously puts down all the things Zlh
his wife thinks he ought to remember. ^
Anythmg else interesting ever been found here?"
-he wanted to know. "Any jewels or things of Thlt
I pamd the question on to the guide
Mmy thing, h«l been found, l,e sM: coin.,, v.«.,
pottej, Md mosuc Oc<«i„n.llj, .„cl, thi„;. tTre
*m,ed up. ttough u«,.lly. ^^^,/,^ „, „„ _^\^^^,
but .t w« the hope of finding «,„«a,„g „hfch broth,"
•heffps..,. pf.e„,herewe«gjpriea,tLB.ux. X
wc,uld go to Les Sainte, Marie., the pl«» of the »^
chu«h where the two sainted Maries came ash^Tr^
Sarah, whose tomb was also in that wonderful church
Had we seen .t yet? No? But it was not far. mZ;
f?^K T'- * u°"«'' "" «""' <^y "-" 0- May tweZ
fourth when the Archbishop of Aix lowered the ark !f
«^.« from the roof, and healed those of the sick who we«
Tr to' r P' f "T'- Tt'y ««>"«l>t that pruZ at
her tomb would bring them whatever they desi,^- and
'ome.mes, when they were able to eome'on „ fkr j
•^iVl
156
THE MOTOR MAID
I.
V.
-1;
Hi
*
Les Baux, they would wish at the tomb to find the buried
Phoenician treasure, for which many had searched
generation after generation, since history began, but
none had ever found.
I did not say anything about the gipsies at the inn-
window, but I saw now that Mr. Dane had done wisely
in sticking to his post. A sixty-horse-power Aigle might
largely make up for a disappointment in the matter of
treasure, even if she had to be towed down into the valley
by a horse.
"Ca]v6, and all the great singers, come here sometimes
by moonlight in their motors," went on the guide, "after
the great musical festival of Orange in the month of
August. They stand on the piles of stone among the
ruins when all is white under the moon, and they sing —
ah! but they singi It is wonderful. They do it for their
own pleasure, and there is no audience except the ghosts
-— and me, for they allow me to listen. Yet I think, if
our eyes could be opened to such things, we would see
grouped round a noble company of knights and ladies —
such a company as would be hard to get together in
thea' days."
"Well, I would rather sing here in August than April!"
exclaimed Lady Tumour, with the air of a spoiled prima
donna. And then she shivered and wanted to go down
to the car without waiting for the sunset, which, after
all, could only be like any other mountain sunset, and
she could see plenty of better ones next summer in Switzer-
land. She felt so chilled, she was quite anxious about
herself, and should certainly not dare to start for Avignon
until she had had a glass of steaming hot rum punch
THE MOTOR MAID 157
or something of that sort, at the inn. Did the guide
think she could get it - and have it sent out to her in the
air, as nothing would induce her to go inside that
httle den ?
The guide thought it probable that something hot
might be obtained, though there might be a few minutes'
delay while the water was made to boil, as it would be
an unusual order.
A few minutes! thought I, eagerly, looking at the
sun, which was hunying westward. I knew what "a
few minutes" at such an inn would mean -half an hour
at least; and apparently I was no longer needed as an
interpreter. Without a thought of me, now that I had
ceased to be useful, Lady Tumour slipped her arm into
her husband's for support (her high-heeled shoes and
the rough, steep streets had not been made for each other)
and began trotting down the hill, in advance of the guide'
They had finished with him, too, and were already deep in
a discussion as to whether rum punch, or hot whisky-
and-water with sugar and lemon were better, for warding
off a chill. I did n't see why I should n't linger a little
on the wide plateau, with the Dead City looming above
me hke a skeleton seated on a ruined throne, and half
southern France spread out in a vast plain, a thousand
feet below.
It was wonderful there, and strangely, almost terribly
still. Once the sea had washed the feet of the cliff, dim
ages ago. Now my eyes had to travel far to the Medi-
terranean, where Marseilles gloomed dark against the
burnished glimmer of the water. I could see the Etang
de Berre, too, and imagine I saw the AureUan Way, and
158
THE MOTOR MAID
gloomy old Aigues-Mortes, which we were to visit later.
At lunch we had talked of a poem of Mistral's, which L
friend of Mr. Dane's had put into French — a poem all
about a legendary duel. And it was down there, in that
far-stretching field, that the duel was fought.
As I looked I raribed that the clouds boiling up from
some vast cauWroo behind the world were choking the
horizon with their purple folds. They were beautiful
as the banners of a royal army advancing over the horizon,
but — they would hide the sun as he went down to bathe
in the sea. He was embroidering ther edges with gold
now. I was seeing the best at this moment. If I started
to go back, I should have time to pause here and there,
gazing at things the Tumours had hurried past.
I went down slowly, reluctantly, the melancholy charm
of the place catching at my dress as I walked, like the
suppUcating fingers of a ghost condemned to dumbness.
There was one rock-hewn house I had wanted to see,
coming up, which Lady Tumour had scorned, saying
"when you've been in one, you've been in ull."
And she had not understood the guide's stoiy of a legend
that was attached to this particular houae. Perhaps
if she had she would not have cared; but now I was
free I couldn't resist the temptation of going in, to
poke about a Uttle. You could go several floors down,
the guide had said; that was certain, but the tale was!
that a secret way led down from the lowest cellar of this
cave house, continuing — if one could only find it — to
the enchanted cavem far below, where Taven, the witch,
kept and cured of illness the girl loved by Mireio.
I did n't know who Mireio was, except that he lived in
THE MOTOR MAID 159
songs and legends of Old Provence, but the story sounded
Uke a beautiful romance; and then, the guide had added
that some people thought the Kabre d'Or, or Phoenician
treasure, was hidden somewhere between Les Baux and
the "Faiiy Grotto," or the "Goi^e of Hell," near by.
Caves have always had the most extraordinary, magical
fascination for me. When I was a child, I believed that
if I could only go into one I shouW be allowed to find
fairyland; and even in m ordinary, eveiy-day cellar
I was never quite without hope. Tke smell of a cellar
suggested the most cool, delightful, slttdowy mysteries
to me, at that time, and does stiM.
It was as if the ghostly hand that had been pulling
me back, begging me not to leave Les Banx, kd me
gently but insistently through the doorw«y of the rock
house.
It was not yet dark inside. I tq)toed i^ way throagh
some rough bits of debris, to the back of the big room,
crudely cut out of stone. There w«re sbebes wh«e the
dwellers had set lights or stored provisions, and there
was nothing else to see except a square hole in the floor
below which a staircase had been hewn. A glimmer of
light came up to me, gray as a bat's wing, and I knew
that there must be some opening for ventilation below.
I felt that I would give anything to go down those
rough stone stairs, only half way down, perhaps; just
far enough to see what lay underneath. It was as if
Taven herself had called me, saying: "Come, I have
something to show you."
I put a foot on the first step, then the other foot wanted
a chance to touch the next step, and ;.o on, each demanding
THE MOTOR MAID
its own turn in fairness. I had gone down eight steps,
counting each one, when I heard a faint nistUng noise.
I stopped, my heart giving a jump, Uke a bird in a cage.
There were no windows in the underground room,
which was much smaller and less regular in shape than
the one above, but a faint twiUght seemed to rain down
into it in streaks, like speare of rain, and I guessed that
holes had been made in the rock to give Ught and ven-
tilation. Something aUve was down there, moving
I was fiightened; I hardly dared to look. And I had a
nightmare feeUng of being struck dumb and motionless.
I tned to turn and run up the stairs; but I had to look,
and the gray filtering Ught struck into a pair of ^yes.
lit
CHAPTER XIV
THEY were great black eyes, sunken into the face
of an old woman. She stood in a comer, and
it occurred to me that she had perhaps run
there, as much afraid of me as I was of her. No eyes
were ever hke those, I thought, except the eyes of
a gipsy.
"What are you doing?" I stammered, in French,
hardly expecting her to understand and answer me; but
she replied in an old, cracked voice that sounded hollow
and unreal in the cavern.
"I have been asleep," she said. "I am waiting for
my sons. We are in Les Baux on business. I thought,
when I heard you, it was my boys coming to fetch
me. I can't go till they are here, because I have
dropped my rosary with a silver crucifix down below,
and the way is too steep for me. They must get it"
"Do they know you are here?" I asked.
"Oh, yes," she returned. "They will come at ax.
We shall perhaps have our supper and sleep in this house
to-night. Then we will go away in the morning."
"It is only a little after five now," I told her. "You
frightened me at first."
She cackled a laugh. "I am nothing to be afraid of,"
she chuckled. "I am very old. Besides, there is no harin
in me. If you have the time, I could tell your fortune."
161
162
THE MOTOR MAID
I . t
I'm afraid I haven't time," I said, though I was
tempted. To have ne's fortune told in a cavern under
a rock house where Romans had lived, told by a real,
live gipsy who looked as if she might be a Uneal descen-
dant from Taven, and who was probably fresh from wor-
shipping at the tomb of Sarahl It would be an experience.
No girl I knew, not even Pam herself, who is always
having adventures, could ever have had one as good as
this. If only I need not miss it I
"It would take no more than five minutes," she pleaded
in her queer French, which was barely understandable,
and evidently not the tongue m which she was most at
home.
"Well, then," I said, hastily calculating that it was no
more than ten minutes since Lady Tumour and Sir
Samuel left me, and that the water for their punch
could n't possibly have begun to boil yet. "Well, then,
perhaps I might have five minutes' fortune, if it
but I'm very poor — poorer
doesn't cost too much;
than you, maybe."
"That cannot be, for then you would have less than
nothing," said the old woman, cackling again. " But it
is your company I like to have, mere than your money.
I have been waiting here a long time, and I am dull. No
fortune can be expected to come true, however, unless the
teller's hand be crossed with silver, otherwise I might give
it you for nothing. But a two-franc piece "
"I think I have as much as that," I cut her short, as
she paused on the hint; and deciding not to ask her, as
I felt inclined, to come to the upper room lest we should
be interrupted, I went down the remaining five or six
THE MOTOR MAID 163
high steps, and got out my purse under a long, straight
rod of gray light.
There were only a few francs left, but I would have
beggared myself to buy this adventure, and thought it
cheap at the price she named. I found a two-franc
piece — a bright new one, worthy of its destiny — and
looking up as I shut my purse, I saw the old woman's eyes
fixed on me, and sharp as gimlets. Used to the
dusk now, I could see her dark face distinctly, and so
like a hungry crow did she look that I was startled.
But it was only for a second that I felt a little uncomfort-
able. She was so old and weak, I was so young and
strong, that even if she were an evil creature who wanted
to do me harm, I could shake her off and run away as
easily as a bird could escape from a tied cat.
"Make a cross with the silver piece on my palm,"
she said.
I did as she told me, and it was a dark and dirty palm,
in the hollow of which seemed to lie a tiny pool of shadow.
Her eyes darted to the bracelet-watch as my wrist slipped
out of the protecting sleeve, and I drew back my hand
quickly. She plucked the coin from my fingers, and
then told me to give her my left hand.
*'You can't see the lines," I said. "It 's too dark."
"I see with my night eyes," she answered, as a witch
might have answered. "And I feel. I have the quick
touch of the bUnd. I can feel the pores in a flower-
petal."
Impressed, I let her hold my hand in one of her lean
claws while she lightly passed the spread fingers of the
other down the length of mine from the tips to the joining
t^ !-
164
I
■■■«
i' i
THE MOTOR MAID
with the palm, and then along the palm itMlf, up and
down and across. It was like having a feather drawn
over my hand.
"You have foreign blood in your veins," she said.
"You are not all French. But you have the charm of
the I^tin giri. You can make men love you. You make
them love you whether you wish dr not, and whether ihey
wish or not Sometimes that is a great trouble to you.
You are anxious now, for many reasons. One of the
reasons is a man, but there is more than one who loves
you. You make one of them unhappy, and yourself
unhappy, too. The man you ought to love is young and
handsome, and dark — very dark. Do not think ever
of marrying a fair man. You are on a journey now.
Something very unexpected will happen to you at the
end — something to do with a man, and something to do
with a woman. Be careful then, for your future happi-
ness may depend on your actions in a moment of sur-
prise. You are not rich, but you have a lucky hand.
You could find things hidden if you set yourself to look
for them."
"Hidden treasure?" I asked, laughingly, and venturing
to break in because she was speaking slowly now, as if
she had come to the end of her string of prophecies.
" Perhaps. Yes. If you looked for the hidden treasure
here, you might be the one to find it after all these hun-
dreds of years. Who knows? These things happen
to the lucky ones."
"Well, if I believed that I 'd been bom for such luck,
I 'd try to come back some day, and have a look," I said.
"I should begin in this house, I think."
THE MOTOR MAID les
"It b never so lucky to return for things as to tiy and
get them at the right time," the old woman pronounced.
"If you would like to wait till my sons come "
"No, I would n't." I said. "I must go now."
"If you would at least do me a favour, for the good
fortune I have told you so cheap," she begged. "I,
who in my day have had as much as two louis from'
great ladies who would know their fortune I"
" What is the favour ? " I asked.
"Oh, it is next to nothing. Only to go down to the
foot of the stairs in the cellar below this, and pick up my
rosary, which I dropped, and which I know is Ivinir
there." ^ *
" It 's too dark," I raid. " I could n't see to find it — and
you said your sons wi re coming soon."
"Not soon enough, for when you are gone, and I am
alone, I should like to pray at the time of vespers. And
it is not so dark as you think. Besides, this will be the
test of the fortune I have just told you. If it 's true that
you have the lucky hand for unding you will put it on
the rosary in an instant. That will be a sign you can find
anything. Unless you are afraid, mademoiselle "
"Of course I 'm not afraid," I said, for I always
have been ashamed of my fear of the dark, and have
forced myself to fight against it. "If the rosary is at the
foot of the staircase I '11 try and get it for you, but I
won't go any farther."
Her comer was close by the opening where more steps
were cut into the rock. I could see the bottom, I thought,
and started down quickly, because I was in a hurry to
come back and be on my way home — to the Aigle.
166
THE MOTOR MAID
Six, aeven steps, and then — crashl down I came on
my hands and knees.
Oh, how it hurt! And how it made my head ringi
Fireworks went off before my eyes, and I felt stupid,
mchned to lie still. But suddenly the idea flashed into
my brain, like lightning darting among dark clouds,
that the old woman had made me do this thing on pur-
pose. She had played me a trick - and if she had. »he
must have some bad reason for doing it. Those two
sons of hers! I scrambled up, shocked and jarred by
the fall, my hands and knees smartug as if they were
skinned.
"I've fallen down/* I cried. "Do you hear?"
No answer.
I called again. It was as still as a grave up above.
It seemed to me that it could not be so unnaturally so
inhumanly still, if there were a living, breathing creature
there. I was sure now that the horrible old thing had
known what would happen, had wanted it to happen,
and had gone hobbUng away to fetch her wicked gipsy
sons. How she had looked at my poor little pursel
How she had looked at Pamela's watch I
I saw now how it was that I had been so stupid. The
dim light from above had lain on the last step and
made it appear as if the floor were near; but there was
a gap between the stairway and the bottom of the cellar.
The lower steps had been hewn away — perhaps in a
quest for the ever^lusive treasure. Maybe a crack had
appeared, and people, always searching, had suspected
a secret opening and tried to find it. Anyway, there
was the gap, and there was a rough pile of broken stone
THE MOTOR MAID 167
not far off, which had once been the end of the rocky
rtairway. It was lucky that I had n't struck my forehead
against it in falUng-the only bit of luck which the
fortune-teller had brought met
As it was, I was not seriously hurt Perhaps I had
torn my dress, and I should certainly have to buy a new
pair of gloves, whether I could affoitl them or not; other-
wise I didn't think I should suffer, except for a few
black-and-blue patches. But how was I to get out of this
dark hole ? That was the question. I was too hot with
anger against the sly old fox of a woman, who had pre-
tended that she wanted to say her prayers, to feel the
chill of fear; but I could n't help understanding that she
had got me into this trap with the object of annexing my
watch and purse or anything else of value. Perhaps the
gipsy sons would rob me first, and then muider me, rather
than I should Uve to tell; but if they meant to do that
they would have to come and be at it soon, or I should
be missed and sought.
This last fancy really did turn me cold, and the nice
hot anger which had kept me warm began to ooze out
at my fingers and toes. I thought of my brave new
brother, who would fight ten gipsy men to save me if
he only knew; and then I wanted to cry.
But that would be the silliest thing I could do. Soon
they would begin to look for me (oh, how furious Lady
Tumour would be that I should dare keep her waiting,
and at the fuss about a servant 1) and if I screamed at
the top of my voice maybe some one would hear.
I took a long breath, and gave vent to a blood-curdling
shriek which would have made the fortune of an actress
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168
THE MOTOR MAID
on the stage. Odd! I could n't help thinking of that at
the time. One thinks of queer things at the most inappro-
priate moments.
It was a glorious howl, but the i^ock walls seemed
to catch it as a battledore catches a shuttlecock, and
send it bounding back to me. I knew then that a cry
from those depths v/ould not carry far; and the fear at
my heart gave a sharp, rat-like bite.
If I could scramble upl I thought; and promptly tried.
It looked almost easy; but for me it was impossible.
A very tall woman might have done it, perhaps, but I
have only five foot four in my Frenchiest French heels;
and the broken-oflF place was higher than my waist. With
good hand-hold I might have dragged myself up,
but the steps above did not come at the right height to
give me leverage; and always, though I tried again and
again, till my cut hands bled, I could n't climb up. And
how silly it seemed, the whole thing! I was just like a
young fly that had come buzzing and bumbling round an
ugly old spider's web, too foolish to know that it was a
web. And even now how lightly the fly's feet were
entangled I A spring, and I should be out of prison.
" Oh, the little more, and how much it is!
And the little less, and what worlds away!"
The words came and spoke themselves in my ears, as
if they were determined to make me cry.
I was desperately frightened and homesick — home-
sick even for Lady Tumour. I should have felt Uke
kissing the hem of her dress if I could only have seen
her now — and I was n't able to smile when I thought
what a rage she 'd be in if I did it. She would have me
THE MOTOR MAID 169
sent off to an insane asylum: but even that would be
much gayer and more homelike than an underground
cellar in the Ghost City of Les Baux.
Dear old Sir Samuel, with his nice red face! I almost
loved him. The car seemed like a long-lost aunt. And
as for the chauffeur, my brother — I found that I dared
not think of him. As in my imagination I saw his eyes,
his good dark eyes, clear as a brook, and the lines his
brown face took when he thought intently, the *'^ars began
running down my cheeks.
"Oh, Jack — Jack, come and help mel" I called.
That comes of thinking people's Christian names.
They will pop out of your mouth when you least expect
it. But it mattered little enough now, except that the
sound of the name and the echo of it fluttering back to me
made my tears feel boiling hot — hotter than the
punch which the Tumours must have finished by this
time.
"Jack! Jack I" I called again.
Then I heard a stone rattle up above, somewhere, and
a sick horror rushed over me, because of the gipsy men
coming back with their wicked old mother.
It was only a very dark gray in the cellar, to my
unaccustomed eyes, but suddenly it turned black, with
purple edges. I knew then I was going to faint, because
I 've done it once or twice before, and things always began
by being black with purple edges.
fef
CHAPTER XV
i
. J
! ^
m
FOR heaven's sake, wake up — tell me you 're not
hurt!" a familiar voice was saying in my ear, or
I was dreaming it. And because it was such a
good dream I was afraid to break it by waking to some
horror, so I kept my eyes shut, hoping and hoping for
it to come again.
In an instant, it did come. " Child — little girl — wake
upl Can't you speak to me?"
His hand, holding mine, was warm and extraordinarily
comforting. Suddenly I felt so happy and so perfectly
safe that I was paid for everyt' '.ig. My head was on
somebody's arm, and I knew fery well now who the
somebody was. He was real, and not a dream. I sighed
cozily and opened my eyes. His face was quite close to
mine.
"Thank God 1" he said. "Are you all right?"
"Now you 're here," I answered. "I thought they
were coming to kill me."
"Who?" he asked, quite fiercely.
"An old gipsy woman and her sons."
"Those people I" he exclaimed. "Why, it was they
who told me you were in this place. If it had n't been
for them I should n't have found you so soon — though
I vmuld have found you. The wretches! What made
you think "
170
Is-i
THE MOTOR MAID m
„ "T!^® **^^ woman was in the room above," I said,
"waiting for her sons; and she begged me to look down'
here for a rosary she dropped She must have known
the bottom steps were gone. She ivanted me to fall;
and though I crlled, she did n't answer, because she 'd
probably hobbled off to find her sons and bring them
back to rob me. I have n't hurt myself much, but when
I found I couldn't climb up I was so frightened I I
thought no one would ever come — except those horrible
gipsies. And when I heard a sound above I was sure
they were here. I felt sick and strange, and I suppose
I must have fainted."
"I heard you call, just as I got into the upper room.
Then, though I answered, everything was still. Jove I
I had some bad minutesi But you 're sure you 're all
right now?"
"Sure," I answered, sitting up. "Did I call you
'Jack'? If I did, it was only because one can't shriek
'Mister,' and anyway you told me to."
"Now I know you 're all right, or you would n't bother
about conventionaUties. I wish I had some brandv for
you " ^
"I would n't take it if you had."
"That sounds like you. That's encouragingi Are
you strong enough to let me get you up into the Heht
and air?" ^
"Quite!" I replied briskly, letting him help me to my
feet. "But how are we to get up?"
If it
I '11 show you. It will be easy
Let 's look first for the wicked old creature
I
is n't here, it 's certain she 's a fraud.
s rosary.
172
THE MOTOR MAID
ti! '^
I
m
"I should think it 's certain without looking. I 'd like
to put the old serpent in prison."
"I wouldn't care to trouble, now I'm safe. And
anyway, how could we prove she meant her sons to rob
me, since they had n't begun the act, and so could n't be
caught in it?"
"She did n't know you had a man to look after you.
When the guide and I came this way, searching, we met
a ^psy woman with two awful brutes, and asked if
they 'd seen a young lady in a gray coat. They were all
three on their way here, as you thought; but when they
saw us close to this house, of course, they dared not carry
out their plan, and the old woman made the best of a
bad business. No doubt they 're as far off by this time
as they could get. It might be difficult to prove anything,
but I 'd Ulie to try."
" / would n't," I said. " But let 's look for that rosary.
Have you any matches ?"
"Plenty." He took out a match-case, and held a wax
vesta for me to peer about in the neighbourhood of the
broken stairway.
"Here's something glittering!" I exclaimed, just as
I had been about to give up the search in vain. "She
said there was a silver crucifix."
I slipped my fingers into a crack where the rock
had been split in breaking off the lower steps. A
small, bright thing was there, almost buried in debris,
but I could not get my fingers in deep enough to
dislodge it. Impatiently I pulled out a hat-pin, and
worked until I had unearthed — not the rosary, but a
silver coin.
THE MOTOR MAID
173
"Somebody else has been down here, dropping money,"
I said, handing the pi' ce up for Mr. Dane to examine.
"Then it was a long time ago," he replied, "for the
coin has the head of Louis XIII. on it."
"Oh, then she was right!" I cried. "I can find lost
treasure. I'm going to look for more. I believe that
piece must have fallen out of a hole I've found here,
which goes back ever so far mto the rock. I can get my
arm in nearly to the elbow."
"Who was 'right'?" ray brother wanted to know.
"The gipsy. She told my fortune. That was why I
did n't refuse to look for her rosary."
"I should have thought a child would have known
better," he remarked, scornfully; and his tone hurt my
sensitiveness the more because his voice had been so
anxious and his words so kind when I was fainting. He
had called me "child" and "little girl." I remembered
well, and the words had been saying themselves over
in my mind ever since. I rather thought that they
betrayed a secret — that perhaps he had been getting to
care for me a little. That idea pleased me, because he
had been abrupt sometimes, and I had n't known what to
make of him. Every girl owes it to herself to under-
stand a man thoroughly — at least, as much of his char-
acter and feelings as may concern her. Besides, it
is not soothing to one's vanity to try — well, yes, I
may as well confess that I — to try and please a man,
yet to know you've failed after days of association so
constant and intimate that ho ' are equal to the
same number of months in an ordinary acquaintance.
Now, after thinking I 'd made the discovery that he
174
THE MOTOR MAID
1^.
Mr
I
1 1
really had found me attractive, it was a shock to be
spoken to in this way.
"Oh, you are cross I" I exclaimed, still poking about
in the hole under the stairway.
"I'm not cross," he said, "but if I were, you'd
deserve it, because you know you 've been foolish. And
if you don't know, you ought to, so that you may be wiser
next time. The idea of a sensible young woman chum-
ming up in a lonely cave, with a dirty old gipsy certain
to be a thief, if not worse, letting her tell fortunes, and
then falling into a trap like this. I wouldn't have
believed it of youl"
"I think you 're perfectly horrid," said I. "I wish
you had let the guide find me. He would have done it
just as well, and been much more polite."
"Doubtless he would have been more polite, but he
is n't as young, and might have had trouble in getting
you out. There I that 's my last match, and you mustn't
waste any more time looking for treasure which you
won't find."
"Which I have found!" I announced, "I've got
something more — away at the back of the hole. Not
that you deserve to see it!"
However, I held up my hand in its torn, bloodstained
glove, with two silver pieces displayed on the palm.
"A child's hidey-hole, I suppose," he said without
showing as much interest as the occasion warranted.
"Othexwise there would be something more valuable.
A young servant of the Grimaldis, perhaps; these coins
are all of the same period — of no great value as antiques,
I 'm afraid."
1::^
THE MOTOR MAID 175
•' They 're of value to me," I retorted. "They '11 bring
me luck." I would of course have given him one, if
he had n't been so disagreeable; but now I felt that he
should n't have anything of mine if he were starving.
"You are very superstitious, among other childlike
qualities," he replied, laughing. So that was what he
thought of me, and that was why he had called me
"child"! It was all spoiled now, from the beginning;
and the guide might as well have found me, as I had
said, without quite meaning it at the time.
"If you don't like lucky things, you can throw away
my St. Christopher," I said, coldly. "You must have
thought it very silly."
"I thought it extremely kind of you to give it, and
I 've no intention of throwing it away, or parting with
it," said he. "Now, are you ready?"
"Yes," I snapped.
In an instant he had me by the waist between two
hands which felt strong as steel buckles, and swung me
up like a feather on to the first step of the broken stairs.
'^^en, in another second, he was at my side, supportin<'
to the top without a word, except a muttered "Don't
-•hildishl" when I would have pushed away his arm.
Strange to say, I forgot Lady Tumour and Sir Samuel
until we saw the guide, to whom long ago Mr. Dane had
called up a reassuring "Tout va bien!" Then, suddenly,
the awful truth sprang into my mind. All this time
they had been waiting for me! What would they say?
What would they do?
In my horror, I even forgot my righteous anger with
the chauffeur. "Oh!" I gasped. "The Tumours I"
176
THE MOTOR MAID
ii
I
Then Mr. Dane spoke kindly again. "Don't worry,"
he said. "It 's ali right. They 've gone on."
"In the car?" I cried.
"No. Sir Samuel can't drive the "ar. And as
Lady Tumour thought she had a chill, rather than wait
for me to find you they took a carriage which was here,
and drove down to St. Remy. They '11 go on by rail to
Avignon, and "
"There must have been a dreadful row!" I groaned.
" Not at all. You 're not to worry. Lady Tumour
behaved like a cad, as usual, but what can you expect ?
Sir Samuel did the best he could. He would have liked to
wait, but if he 'd insisted she would have had hysterics."
"How came there to be a carriage here?" I asked the
guide.
"The gentleman paid three young n.»n who had driven
up in it a good sum to get it for himself," he explained,
"and they are walking down. They are of Germany."
"Was it a long time ?" I went on. "Oh, it must have
been. It 's nearly dark now, except for the moonlight."
"It is perhaps an hour altogether since madr -^oise'le
separated herself from the others," the guide admitted.
"But they have been gone for more than half that
time. They did not delay long, after the little dispute
with monsieur about the car."
"Oh, there was a dispute 1" I caught him up, wheeling
upon the chauffeur. "You must tell me."
"It was nothing much," he said, still very kindly, "and
it was her ladyship's fault, of course. If you were plain
and elderly she 'd have more patience; but as it is,
you 've seen how quick she is to scold; so, of course, she
THE MOTOR MAID 177
was angry when she 'd finished her grog and you
did n't turn up."
"What did she say," I asked.
He laughed. "She was quite irrelevant."
"I must know!"
"Well, she setm'si to lay most of the blame on the
colour of your hair and eyelashes."
"She said "
"What could be expected of a girl that dyed her hair
yellow and her eyelashes black?"
"Horrid woman! You don't believe I do, do you?"
"I must say it had n't occurred to me to think of it."
Then I remembered how angry I was with him, and
didn't pursue that subject, but turned again to the
other. However, I made a mental note that there was
one more thing to punish him for when I got the chance.
"What else did she say?"
"She began to turn purple when Sir Samuel would
have defeiided you, and said she would n't stand your
taking such hberties. That it was monstrous, and a few
other things, to be kept freezing on mountains by one's
dome! and that she should be ill if she waited. Sir
Samuel persuaded her to give you fifteen minutes' grace^
but after that she was determined to start. Of course,
she did n't know that an accident had happened. She
thought you were simply dawdhng, and van ted Sir
Samuel to arrange for you to drive down with the newly
arrived German tourists. Sir Sdmuel and I objected to
this, and later it was settled for the Tumours to do what
her ladyship planned for you, without the company of
the tourists. Lady '"'umoar resents lese-majest'e."
lv<
THE MOTOR MAID
I,
"It 's a miracle she consented to leave the car," I said.
"She could n't use it without a chauffeur, and naturally
I refused to go without knowing what had happened to
you."
"You refused I" I stammered.
"Of course. That was where the row came in. We
had a few words, and eventually I was deputed to look
you up."
" Deputed 1" I echoed, desperately. "They never
'deputed' you to do it, I 'm sure."
"They jolly well could n't help themselves. You can't
make a man drive a car if he won't. So they went off
in the Germans' carriage, and the Germans were
enchanted."
"Oh I" I exclaimed, so miserable now that anger
leaked out of my heart like water through a sieve. ** It 's
all my fault. Did they discharge you ?"
"I didn't give them the chance. After a few little
things her ladyship said, I felt rather hot in the collar,
and discharged myself. That is, I gave them notice that
I would go as soon as they could get another chauffeur.
It would have been bad form to leave them in the lurch,
without anyone, on tour."
The tears came to my eyes, and I was thinking so
little about myself that I let them roll down with-
out bothering to wipe them away. "Do, do forgive
me," I implored. "But you never can, of course.
All through "oolishness you 're out of an engage-
ment. And you depended upon it, I know, from what
you said."
"There's nothing to forgive, my dear little sister,"
»fe 1
THE MOTOR MAID
179
be said. " It 'a you who must forgive me, if I 've distressed
you by telling tbe story in a c'jmay way. It wasn't
your fault. I couldn't stand that bounderess's cruel
tongue, so I have myself to blame, if anyone. And it 's
sure to turn out right in the end."
"You refused to drive their c. r because you would
stay behind and find me "
"Any decent chap would do that — even a chauffeur."
He spoke lightly to comfort me. "Besides, I wanted
to stop. You 're the only sister I ever had."
"You must hate me " I moaned.
"I don't. Pl'u e don't cry. I shall faint if you do.'*
I was obliged to laugh a little through my tears.
"Come," he said, gently. "Let me take you down.
Just a word with the guide about those gipsies, and "
"Oh, leave the wretched gipsies alone 1" I begged.
"Who cares, now? If you say anything, they may call
us as witnesses at St. Remy or some town where we
don't want to stop. Let them go."
" I suppose 've might as well " he said, " 'or we can't
prove anything worth proving. Come, hen." He
slipped some money into the guide's hand, .*iid thanked
him for Lis counesy and kindness. But another pang
shot through my remorsef il heart. More money sp>ent
by this man for me, when Lc liad so little, and had lost the
engagement which, though unworthy his rank in life,
was the only present means he had of earning a liveli-
hood. I came, obeying in forlorn silence, and could
not answer when he tried to cheer me up as we walked
down to the Hotel Monte Carlo. There stood the
Aigle in charge of a youth from the inn, and there was
M
, 'I.
'i , '!
Ill ; '
180 THE MOTOR MAID
more money to be paid to him. I wanted to give it, but
saw that if I insisted Mr. Dane would be vexed.
He suggested putting me inside, as the air was now
very cold, with the chill that falls after sunset; but I
refused. "I want to sit by youl" I implored, and he
said no more. With the glass cage behind us empty,
and the great acetylene lamps alight, the Aigle turned and
flew down the hill.
■1 V
CHAPTER XVI
FOR some time we did not speak, but my thoughts
moved more quickly than the beating of the
engine. At last I said meekly, "Of course, I
may as well consider myself discharged, too. And even
if I were n't, I should go."
"I Ve been thinking about that," Mr. Dane answered.
"It was the first thought that came into my head when
the row began. It is n't likely she '11 want you to leave,
because she won't like getting on without a maid. I
think, in the circumstances, unless she is brutal, you 'd
better stay with her till your friends can receive you.
Someone miuit come forward and help you now."
"I wouldn't ask anyone but Pamela, who's gone to
America," I protested. "Besides, I can't stand Lady
Tumour after what 's happened — with you gone."
(As I said this, I remembered again how I had dreaded
to associate with the chauffeur, and planned to avoid him.
It was rather funny, as it had turned out; but somehow
I did n't feel like laughing.)
"Of course you won't mind," I went on. "It's
different for a man. If you were left and I going, it
would n't matter, because you 'd have the car. But
I've nothing — except Lady Tumour's 'transforma-
tion.' Luckily, she won't want me to stop."
"I think she will," he said, "because your only fault
181
I-
182
THE MOTOR MAID
''M
■If.
was in having an accident. You were n't impudent, as
she thinks I was in refusing to drive the car. Also in
letting her see that I thought her willingness to leave a
young giri in a place like this, alone for hours (she did
propose to let me drive back for you) was the most brutal
thing I 'd ever heard of."
"Oh, how good you were, to sacrifice yourself Uke that
for mel" I exclaimed.
"It wasn't entirely for you," he said. "One owes
some things to oneself. But when we get to Avignon,
and it's settled between you and Lady Tumour, promise
to let me know what you mean to do and give me a chance
to advise you."
I promised. But I was so melancholy as to the future
and so ashamed of myself for the trouble brought upon
my only friend, that his efforts to cheer me were hopeless
as an attempt to let off wet fireworks. Mine were soaked ;
and instead of admiring the moonlight, which soon flooded
the wild landscape, it made me the more dismal.
The drive by day had seemed short, but now it was
long, for I was in haste to begin the expected battle.
"Courage! and be wise," said Mr. Dane, as he helped
me out of the car in front of the Hotel de I'Europe. "I
shall bring up your dinner again — it 's no use saying
you don't want anything — and we'll exchange news."
WTien lions have to be faced, my theory is that the
best thing is to open the cage door and walk in
boldly, not crawl in on your knees, saying: "Please
don't eat me."
I expected Lady Tumour to have a fine appetite for
any martyrs lying about loose, but to my surprise a faint
I*
THE MOTOR MAID 183
"Come in!" answered my dauntless knock, and I beheld
her prostrate in bed.
She said that I had nearly killed her, and that she
would probably not be able to move for a week; but the
story of my adventures with the gipsy interested her some-
what, and she brightened when she heard of the old coins
found in a hole in the rock. There was not a word about
sending me away, and I suspected that a scene with Sir
Samuel had crushed the lady. Even a worm will turn,
and Sir Samuel may be one of those mild men who, when
once roused, are capable of surprising those who know
them best. Quite meekly she desired that I would show
her the coins, and having seen them, she said that she
would buy them of me. Not that they were of any in-
trinsic value, but they might be "lucky," and she would
give me a sovereign for the three.
Then an idea came and whispered in my ear. I thanked
Lady Tumour politely, but said I thought I had better
keep the coins and show them to an antiquary. They
might be more valuable than we supposed and I should
need all the money, as well as all the luck possible, now
that I was leaving her ladyship's service.
"Leaving!" she echoed. "But as you had an acci-
dent I 've made up my mind to excuse you this time,
and not discharge you as I intended. You don't
know your business too well, but any maid is better
than no maid on a tour like this, as Sir Samuel pointed
out to me."
"But, begging your ladyship's pardon," I ventured,
"T understand that the chauffeur is to go because he
stopped at Les Baux to look for me. As he very likely
$
184
THE MOTOR MAID
:|r
saved my Kfe, I could n't be so ungrateful as to stay on
in my situation when he is losing his for my sake."
"What nonsense I" snapped her ladyship. "As if that
had anything to do with you, and if it has, it ouglU n't.
Besides, if he will apologize, he can stop. Sir Samuel
says so."
"He does n't seem to think he was in the wrong, my
lady," said I. "As your ladyship will probably be at
Avignon some time before finding another chauffeur,
it will be easy to look for a maid at the same time."
" Be here some time ! " she cried. " I won't I We want
to get on to a chftteau where my stepson 's visiting."
"I should be delighted to offer your ladyship two of
the lucky coins for nothing," said I, my impertinence
wrapped in honey, "if she would persuade Sir Samuel to
oak the chauffeur to stay."
"Why, that 's just what Sir Samuel wants to do, if
I would hear of it I" The words popped out before she
had stopped to think.
"It might be too late after this evening," I suggested.
"The chauffeur will perhaps take steps at once to secure
some other engagement; and I fear that a good man is
always in great demand. I hope that your ladyship will
kindly understand that it would be nothing to me, if he
had n't got into trouble for my sake."
"You can leave the coins, and call Sir Samuel, who is
in his room next door," remarked Lady Tumour with
dignity. "I will talk with him."
The greedy creature was delighted to have the coins
without paying for them, and delighted with the excuse
to do what she would have liked to do without an excuse,
THE MOTOR MAID 1S5
if obstinacy had not forbidden. I kept one coin for my
own luck; I called Sir Samuel, who was sulking in hia
den, was dismissed with an order for her ladyship's dinner,
which she would have in bed, and told to return with
the menu.
A few minutes later, coming back, I met Mr. Jack
Dane in the corridor.
"Have you seen Sir Samuel yet?" I inquired.
"No. He 's sent for me, and I 'm on my way to him
now."
"He 's going to ask you to stay," I said.
"I think you 're mistaken there," replied the chauflFeur.
"The old boy himself has a strong sense of justice, and
would like to make everything all right, no doubt, but
his wife would give him no peace if he did."
"If he does, though, what shall you do?" I inquired
anxiously.
Mr. Dane looked into space. " I think I 'd better go in
any case."
"Why?"
If he 'd been a woman, I think he would have an-
swered "Because," but being a man he reflected a few
seconds, and said he thought it would be better for him
in the end.
"Do you want to go?" I asked, drearily.
"No. But I ought to want to."
"Please stay," I begged. "Please — brother."
"Sir Samuel may n't ask me; and you would n't have
me crawl to him?"
"But if he does ask you."
"I '11 stay," he said.
"fP
186 THE MOTOR MAID
Impulsively, I held out my hand. He took it, and
pressed it so hard that it hurt, then dropped it suddenly.
His manner is certainly very odd sometimes. I suppose
he does n't want me to flatter myself that I f m of any
importance in his scheme of existence. But he need n't
worry. He has shown me very plainly that he is one of
those typical, unsusceptible Englishmen French writers
put in their books, men with hearts whose every
compartment is warranted love-tight
i ' .
CHAPTER XVII
LADY TURNOUR opened her heart and her waid-
robe and gave me a blouse the first thing in the
■^ morning, which act of generosity was the more
remarkable as morning is not her best time. I have ound
that it is the early maid who catches the first snub, which
otherwise might fall innocuously upon a husband. The
blouse was one which I had heard her ladyship say she
hated; but then her idea of true charity, combined, as
it should be, with economy, is always to give to the poor
what you would n't be found dead in yourself, because it
is more blessed to give than to receive badly made things.
On the same y iciple I immediately passed the gift on
to a chambermaid of the hotel, who perhaps in her turn
dropped it a grade lower in the social scale, and so it
may go on forever, blouse without end; but all that is
apart from the point. The important part of the f , ->.s-
action was the token that the dead past was to buiy its
dead; and possibly Sir Samuel timidly offered a waistcoat
or a pair of boots to the chauffeur.
Instead of lying in bed, as Lady Tumour had threat-
ened to do for a week, she was up earlier than usual,
as well as ever she had been, and not more than half
as disagreeable. Although the sky looked as if it
might burst into tears at any moment, and although
Orange has nothing but historic remains and historic
187
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188
THE MOTOR MAID
records to show, she was ready to start, almost cheer-
fully, at ten o'clock.
I was allowed to be of the party, laden with mackin-
toshes for my master and mistress; and I did n't admire
the triumphal arch at Orange nearly as much as I had
admired the smaller and older one at St. Remy. But
Lady Tumour admired it far more, and was so nice to Sir
Samuel that he thought it the arch of the world. They
put their heads together over the same volume of Baedeker,
which was an exquisite pleasure to the poor man, and
he was so pathetic I could have cried into his footsteps,
as he read (pronouncing almost everything wrong) about
the building of the Arch of Tiberius. "Why^ that's
just like a sweet little statuette I used to have standing
on a table in my drawing-room window 1" excLimed
Lady Tumour, looking up at the beautiful Winged Victory.
"You might think it va. a copyl"
Although the histories say Orange was n't very impor-
tant in Roman days, it has taken revenge by letting
everything not Roman fall into decay, except, of course,
its memories of the family through which William the
Silent of Holland became William of Orange. The house
of the first William of Orange, the hero of song who rode
back wounded from Roncesvalles to his waiting wife,
is gone now, save for a wall and a buttress or two on a
lonely hill of the old town; yet the arch, which was old
when his chd.teau was begun, still towers dark yellow as
tarnished Etmscan gold against the sky; and the Roman
theatre is the grandest out of Italy. Lady Tumour
could not see why the Commie Fran9aise should pro-
duce plays there, even once a year, when they could do
gi
THE MOTOR MAID
189
it so much more comfortably at any modem theatre in
the provinces if they must travel; and as to the gathering
of the Felibres, she did n't even know what Felibres were,
nor did she care, as she was unlikely to meet any in
society. She would have proposed going on some-
where else, as there was so "little to see in Orange," but
that rain came sweeping down, cold from the east, when
I had followed the pair a quarter of a mile from the motor.
They fled into their mackintoshes as a hermit-crab flees
into his borrowed shell, and I was the only one the
worse for wear when we reached the car. I did n't
much mind the wetting, but it was rather nice to be
fussed over by a brother, and forced into a coat of his,
whether I liked or not. "The quality" must have seen
me in it, through the glass, but Lady Tumour ignored
the sight. Altogether, everything was agreeable, and
the thunder-storm of last night, in clearing, had turned us
into quite a happy family party.
It rained all day, and I sat in my room before a blazing
fire of olive wood which a dear old waiter, exactly like
a confidential servant of a pope, bestowed upon me out
of sheer Provencal good nature. As he *s been in the
hotel for thirty years, he b a privileged person, and can
do what he likes.
Lady Tumour gave me a pile of stockings to look
over, lest Satan should find some more ornamental
use for my idle hands; so I asked Mr. Dane for his socks
too; and pretended that I should consider it a slight upon
my skill if he refused.
That was our last night at Avignon, and early in the
morning I packed for Aries, where we would sleep.
i
100
THE MOTOR MAID
But on the way we stopped at Tarascon, so splendid with
its memories of Du Guesclin, and the towers of King
Rent's great ch&teau reflected in a water-mirror, that
no Tartarin could be blamed if he were bom with a
boasting spirit. And there are other things in Tarascon
for its Tartarins to be proud of, besides the noble old
castle where King Ren^ used to spend his springs and
summers when he was tired of living in state at Aix.
There b the church of Saint Martha, and the beautiful
Hotel de Ville, and — almost best of all for its quaintness,
though far from beautiful — the great Tarasque lurking
in a dark and secret lair.
We could n't go into the chftteau, but perhaps it was
better to see it only from the outside, and remember it
always in a crystal picture, framed with the turquoise of
the sky. Besides, not going in gave us more time for
Beaucaire, just across the river — Beaucaire of the Fair;
Beaucaire of sweet Nicolete and her faithful lover
Aucassin.
I know a song about Nicolete of the white feet and
hair of yellow gold, and I sang it below my breath, sitting
beside my brother Jack, as we crossed the bridge.
Although I sang so softly, he heard, and turned to me for
an instant. "You can sing I" he said.
"You don't like singing," I suggested.
"Only better than most things — that 's all."
"Yet you did n't want me to sing the other night."
"That was because your hair was down. I could n't
stand both together."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you? All the better. Never mind trying
THE MOTOR MAID
101
to guess. Let 's think about the fair. Would n't you
have liked to come here in the days when it was one
of the greatest shows in all France?"
"I could n't have come in a motor then."
"You 're getting to be an enthusiast. You '11 have to
marry a millionaire with at least a forty-horse-power car.'*
"I happen to be running away from one now, in a
axty-horse-power car. But I don't want to think of him
in this romantic country. The idea of Com Plasters,
near the garden where Nicolete's little feet tripped among
the daisies by moonlight, is too appalling."
"Up on the hill are the towers of the castle where
Aucassin was in prison for his love of Nicolete," said
the chauffeur. "If only I can induce them to go there,
and walk in the garden on the battlements I It 's beauti-
ful, full of great perfumed Proven9al roses, and nuantities
of fleur<le-lys growing wild under pine trees and peering
out of formal yew hedges. You never saw anything
quite like it. Oh, I must manage the thing somehow."
"I think you could, in their present mood," said I.
"They 're quite properly honey-moony since the storm^
which was a blessing in disguise. They '11 go up, and
feel romantic and young; but as for me "
"You '11 go up, and be the things they can only feel.
I should like to go with you there " he broke off,
looking wistful.
"Oh, do get some one to guard the car, and come,**
I begged him. "You *ve seen it all before?"
"Yes."
"You look as if the place had sentimental memories
for you."
;■]
pi
pi
■It
II.
102
THE MOTOR MAID
He smiled. "There is a sentiment attaching to it.
Some day I may tell you '* he stopped again. "No,
I don't think 1 11 do that"
Suddenly the thought of the garden was spoiled for
me. I imagined that, in happier days, he must have
walked there with a girl he loved. Perhaps he loved her
still, only misfortune had come to him, and they could not
marry. In that case, I 'd been misjudging him, maybe.
His bluntnesses and abruptnesses and coldnesses did n't
mean that the compartments were "love-tight," as I 'd
fancied, but that they were already full to overflowing.
He did induce the Tumours to see the garden on the
old battlements, and he did find a suitable watch-dog for
the car in order to be my companion. And he was less
self-conscious and happier in his manner than he had
been since the first day or two of our acquaintan •.
Also the garden, starred with spring flowers, v. as even
more lovely than I had expected. I ought to have enjoyed
«very moment there; but — it is ne pleasant to be
with a man when you think he is wishing that you were
another girl.
"Was she pretty?" I couldn't resist asking.
For an instant he looked bewildered; then he under^
stood. "Very," he replied, smiling. "About the pret-
tiest girl I ever saw. The description of Nicolete would
fit her very well. 'The clear face, delicately fine,' and
all that. But I don't let my mind dwell much on girls
in these days, when I can help it, as you can well imagine."
"And when you can't help it?" I wanted to know.
"Oh, when I ran't help it, I feel like a bear with a
sore head, and no honey in my hollow tree."
THE MOTOR MAID 103
So thftt 18 why he is 80 disagreeable, sometiinesi He
is thinking of the girl of the battlemented garden at
Beaucaire. I shall try and find out all about her; but
I don't know that I shall feel better satisfied when I
have.
CHAPTER XVIII
iiil
'^.i^
THE garden on the battlements at Beaucaire
seemed to bring out all that 's best in Lady
Tumour, and she was — for her — quite
radiant when we arrived at Aries. Not that it was
much credit to her to be radiant, when the road
had been perfect, and the car had behaved like an
angel, as usual; but small favours from small natures
are thankfully received; and just as it is a blight
upon the spirits of the whole party when her ladyship
frowns, so do we cheer up and hope for better things
when she smiles.
As we were to spend the night at Aries, and arrived at
the quaint, delightful Hdtel du Forum before lunch, even
the working classes (meaning my alleged brother and
myself) could afford that pleasant, leisured feeling which
is the right of those more highly placed.
The moment we arrived I knew that I was going to
fall in love with Aries, and I hurried to get the unpacking
done, so that I might be free to make its acquaintance.
Lady Tumour, still in her garden mood, told me to
do as I liked till time to dress her for dinner, but to mind
and have no more accidents, as all her frocks hooked at
the back.
I am getting to be quite a skilled lady's-maid now,
and am not sure it ought not to be my permanent mitier,
IM
THE MOTOR MAID
195
though I do like to think I was bom for better things,
and comfort myself by remembering how mother used
to say that a lady can always do everything better than a
common person if she chooses to try, even menial work,
because she puts her intelligence and love for daintiness
into all she does. I unpacked my master's and mistress's
things with the flashing speed of summer lightning and
the neatness of a drill-sergeant. In a twinkling every-
thing was in exactly the right place, and my conscience
felt as if it were growing wings as I flew off to my luncheon.
The whole afternoon free, and the saints only knew what
nice, unexpected adventures might happen! Cousin
Catherine used to say, not meaning to be complimentary,
that I "attracted adventures as some people seem to attract
microbes," and I could almost hear them buzzing round
my head as I ran down-stairs.
There, waiting for me as if he were an incarnate adven-
ture, was the chauffeur, who appeared to be quite excited.
"You must have a peep into the dining-room," he said.
"The door's open. You can look in without being
noticed, and see the walls, which are painted with pictures
from Mistral's works. Also there's something else of
interest, but I won't tell you what it is. I want to see if
you can discover it for yourself."
I peeped, and found the pictures charming. After
following them with my eyes all round the green walls
which they decorate effectively, my gaze lit upon a man
sitting at one of the small tables. He was with two or
three friends who hung upon the words which he accom-
panied by the most graceful, spirited, yet unconscious
gestures. Old he may have been as years go, but the fiie
196
THE MOTOR MAID
'1
1
of eternal youth was in his vivid dark eyes, and his
smile, which had in it the tenderness of great experience,
of long years lived in sympathy and love for mankind.
His head was very noble; and its shape, and the way he
had of carrying it, would alone have shown that he was
Someone.
"Who is that man?" I whispered to Jack Dane.
"That one who is so different from all the others."
"Can't you guess?" he asked.
"Not Mistral?"
"Yes. It's one of his days here. He'll be in the
museum after 1 rjch. I '11 take you there, and if he sees
that you 're interested in things, he '11 talk to you."
"Oh, how glorious!" I breathed, quite awed at the
prospect. "But if he should find out that we're only
lady's-maid and chauffeur?"
"Do you think it would matter to him who we
were — a great genius like that? He wouldn't care
if we were beggars, if we had souls and brains and
hearts."
"Well, we have got soTne of those things," I said.
"Do let's hurry, and get to the museum before our
betters. They can always be counted upon to spend
an hour and a half at lunch if there 's a good excuse,
such as there 's sure to be in this place, famous for rich
Provenyal cooking. Whereas Monsieur Mistral looks
as if he would grudge more than half an hour on an
occupation so prosaic as eating."
"Nothing could be prosaic to him," said Mr. Dane.
" And that 's the secret of life, is n't it ? I think you have
it, too, and I 'm trying to take daily lessons from you.
b)
THE MOTOR MAID 197
By the time we part I hope I shan't be quite such a
sulky, discontented brute as I am now."
"By the time we parti" The words gave me a queer,
horrid little prick, with just that nasty ache that comes
when you jab a hatpin into your head instead of into your
hat, and have got to pull it out again. I have grown so
used to being constantly with him, and having him look
after me and order me about in his dictatorial but curiously
nice way, that I suppose I shall rather miss him for a
week or two when this odd association of ours comes to
an end.
It is strange how one ancient town can differ utterly
from its neighbour, and what an extraordinary, unfor^
getable individuality each can have.
The whole effect of Avignon is mediaeval. In Aries
your mind flies back at once to Rome, and then pushes
away from Rome to find Greece. All among the red,
pink, and yellow houses, huddled picturesquely together
round the great arena, you see Rome in the carved
columns and dark piles of brick built into mediaeval walls.
The glow and colour of the shops and houses seem only
to intensify the grimness and graynes.- of that Roman
background, the immense wall of the arena. Greece
you see in the eyes of the beautiful, stately women, young
and old, in their classic features, and the moulding of
their noble figures. (No wonder Epistemon urged his
giant to let the beautiful girls of Aries alone!) You feel
Greece, too, in the soft charm of the atmosphere, the
dreamy blue of the sky, and the sunshine, which is not
quite garish golden, not quite pale silver; a special sky
and special sunshine, which seem to belong to Aries
198
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THE MOTOR MAID
U
alone, enclosing the city in a dream of vanished days.
The very gaiety which must have sparkled there for happy
Greek youths and maidens gives a strange, fascinating
sadness to it now, as if one felt the weight of Roman rule
which came and dimmed the sunlight.
It was delightful to walk the streets, to look at
the lovely women in their becoming head-dresses, and
to stare into the windows of curiosity shops. But there
was the danger of committing lese-majestS by running into
the arms of the bride and groom at the museum, so "my
brother" hurried me along faster than I liked, until the
fascination of the museum had enthralled me; then I
thanked him, for Mistral was there, for the moment all
alone.
Mr. Dane had n't told me that they had met before,
but Monsieur Mistral greeted him at once as an acquaint-
ance, smiling one of his illuminating smiles. He even
remembered certain treasures of the museum which the
chauffeur — in unchauffeur days — had liked best.
These were pointed out and their interest explained to
me, best of all to my romantic, Latin side being
the "Cabelladuro d'Or," the lovely golden hair of the
dead Beauty of Les Baux, that enchanted princess whose
magic sleep was so rudely broken. We all talked together
of the exquisite Venus of Aries, agreeing that it was
wicked to have transplanted her to the Louvre; and
Mistral's eyes rested upon me with something like interest
for a moment as I said that I had seen and loved her
there. I felt flattered and happy, forgetting that I was
only a servant, who ought scarcely to have dared speak
in the presence of this great genius.
199
THE MOTOR MAID
"She seems to understand something of the charm of
Provence, which makes our comitry different from any
other m the world, does she not?" the poet said at last
to my companion. "She would enjoy an August ffite at
Aries. Some day you ought to bring her."
Mr. Dane did not answer or look at me; and I was
thankful for that, because I was being silly enough to
blush. It was too easy so see what Monsieur Mistral
thought!
"Why didn't you tell me you knew him already?"
I asked, when we had reluctantly left the museum (which
might be invaded by the Philistines at any minute) and
were on our way to the famous Church of St. Trophime.
That we meant to see first, saving the theatre for sunset.
"Oh," answered the chauffeur evasively, "I wasn't
at all sure he 'd remember me. He has so many ad-
mirers, and sees so many people."
"I have a sort of idea that your last visit to this part of
the world was paid en prince, all the samel" I wa6
impertinent enough to say.
He laughed. "Well, it was rather different from this
one, anyhow," he admitted. "A little while ago it made
me pretty sick to compare the past with the present, but
I don't feel like that now."
" Why have you changed ? " I asked.
"Partly the influence of your cheerful mind."
"Thank you. And the other part?"
"Another influence, even more powerful."
"I should like to know what it is, so that I might try to
come under it, too, if it 's beneficent," that ever-lively
curiosity of mine prompted me to say.
200
THE MOTOR MAID
rr i
K
I I'ii
"I am inclined to think it b not beneficent," he
answered, smilbg mysteriously. "Anyhow, I 'm not
going to tell you what it is."
"You never do tell me anything about yourself," I
exclaimed crossly, "whereas I 've given you my whole
history, almost from the day I cut my first tooth, up to
that when I — adopted my first brother."
"Or had him thrust upon you," he amended. "You
see, you've nothing to reproach yourself with in your
past, so you can talk of it without bitterness. I can't
— yet. Only to think of some things makes me feel
venomous, and though I really believe I 'm improving
in the sunbath of your example, which I have every day,
the cure is n't complete yet. Until I am able to talk of
a certain person without wanting to sprinkle my con-
versation with curses, I mean to be silent. But I owe
it to you that I don't imrU to curse her any more. A
short time ago it gave me actual pleasure."
So it b to a woman he owes his misfortunes! As Alice
said in Wonderland, it grows "mysteriouser and mysteri-
ouser." Also it grows more romantic, when one puts two
and two together; and I have always been great at that.
The "sentimental association" of the battlement garden
plus the inspiration to evil language, equal (in my fancy)
one fair, faithless lady, once loved, now hated. I hate
her, too, whatever she did, and I should like to box her
ears. I hope she 's quite old, and married, and that she
makes up her complexion, and everything else which
causes men to tire of their first loves sooner or later.
Not that it is anything to me, personally; but one owes
a little loyalty to one's friends.
THE MOTOR MAID 201
The porch and cloisters of St. Trophime's were too
perfectly beautiful to be marred by a mood; but my
brother Jack's mysteriously wicked sweetheart would
keep coming in between me and the wonderful carvings
in the most disturbing way. Some women never know
when they are wanted I But I did my best to make Mr,
Dane forget her by taking an intelligent interest in eveiy-
luing, especially the things he cared for most, though once,
in an absent-minded instant, I did unfortunately say:
"I don't admire that type of girl," when we were talking
about a sculptured saint; and although he looked sur-
prised I thought it too complicated to try and explain.
The afternoon light was burnishing the ancient stone
carvings to copper when we left the cloisters of St. Tro-
phime, took one last look at the porch, and turned toward
the amphitheatre. We were right to have waited, for
the vast circle was golden m the sunset, like a heavy
bracelet, dropped by Atlas one day, when he stretched a
weary arm; and the beautiful fragments of coloured
marbles, which the Greeks loved and Christians destroyed,
were the jewels of that great bracelet. The place was so
pathetically beautiful in the dying day that a soft sadness
pressed upon me like a hand on my forehead, and echoes
of the long-dead past, when Greek Aries was a harbour of
commerce by sea and river, or when it was Roman Are-
lau., rich and cruel, rang in my ears as we wandered
through the cells of prisoners, the dens of lions, and the
rooms of gladiators, where the young "men about town"
used to pat their favourites on oiled backs, or make their
bets on ivory tablets.
"If we were here by moonlight, we should see ghosts,"
I ■'
11 '
202 THE MOTOR MAID
I said. "Come, let us go before it grows any darker or
sadder. The shadows seem to move. I think there's
a lion crouching in that black comer."
"He won't hurt you, sister Una," said my brother
Jack. "There 's one thing you must see here before
I take you home - back to the hotel, I mean; and that is
the Saracen Tower, as they call it."
So we went into the Saracen Tower, and high up on
the wall I saw the presentment of a hand.
"That is the Hand of Fatima," explained the guide,
who had been following rather than conducting
us, because the chauffeur knew almost as much about
the amphitheatre as he did. "You should touch it,
mademoiselle, for luck. All the young ladies Uke to do
that here; and the young men also, for that matter."
Instantly my brother lifted me up, so that I might touch
the hand; and then I would not be content unless he
touched it too.
I had dinner in the couriers' room that evening, with
my brother, when I had dressed Lady Tumour for hers.
We were rather late, and had the room to ourselves, for
the crowd which had collected there at luncheon time
had vanished by train or motor. There was a nice old
waiter, who was frankly interested in us, recognizing
perhaps that, as a maid and chauffeur, we were out of
the beaten track. He wanted to know if we had done
any sight-seeing in Aries, and seemed to take it as a
personal compliment that we had.
"Mademoiselle touched the Hand of Fatima, of course?"
he asked, letting a trickle of sauce spill out of a sauce-boat
m his friendly eagerness for my answer.
THE MOTOR MAID
203
"Oh, yes, I saw to it that she did that," replied Mr.
Dane, with conscious virtue in the achievement.
"It is for luck, is n't it?" I said, to make conversation.
"And more especially for love," came the unexpected
answer.
"For love!" I exclaimed.
"But yes," chuckled the old man. "If a young girl
puts her hand on the Hand of Fatima at Aries, that hand
puts love into hers. Her fate is sealed within the
month, so it is said."
"Nonsense I" remarked Mr. Dane, "I never heard
that silly story before." And he went on eating his dinner
with extraordinary nonchalance and an unusual, almost
abnormal, appetite.
CHAPTER XIX
'■ i
i< mi
I SHALL always feel that I dreamed Aigues Mortes:
that I fell asleep at night — oh, but fell very far, so
much farther than one usually falls even when one
wakes with the sensation of dropping from a great height,
that I went bumping down, down from century to century,
until I touched earth in a strange, drear land, to find I
had gone back in time about seven hundred years.
Not that there is a conspicuous amount either of land
or earth at Aigues Mortes, City of Dead Waters-— if
the place really does exist, which I begin to doubt already;
but I have only to shut my eyes to call it up; and in my
memoiy I shall often use it as a background for some
mediaeval picture painted with my mind. For with my
mind I can rival Raphael. It is only when I tiy to
execute my fancies that I fail, and then they "all come
different," which is heart breaking. But it will be some-
thing to have the background always ready.
The dream did not begin while we spun gaily from
Aries to Aigues Mortes, through pleasant if sometimes
puerile-seeming country (puerile only because we had n't
its history dropping from our fingers* ends); but there
was time, between coming in sight of the huge, gray-
brown towers and driving in through the fortified gate-
way, for me to take that great leap from the present far
down into the past.
8M
THE MOTOR MAID 205
To my own 8uq>rise, I did n't want to think of the
motorcar. It had brought us to older places, but within
this walled quadrangle it was as if we had come full tilt into
a picture; and the automobile was not an artistic touch.
Ingrate that I was, I turned my back upon the Aigle, and
was thankful when Sir Samuel and I^dy Tumour walked
out of my sight around the comer of the picture. I pre-
tended, when they had disappeared, that I had painted
them out, and that they would cease to exist unless I
relented and painted them in again, as eventually I should
have to do. But I had no wish to paint the driver of the
car out of my picture, for in spite of his chauffeur's dress
he is of a type which suits any century, any country —
that clear-cut, slightly stem, aquiline type which you find
alike on Roman coins and in modem drawing-rooms. He
would have done very well for one of St. Louis's crusaders,
waiting here at Aigues Mortes to sail for Palestine with
his king, from the sole harbour the monarch could claim
as his on all the Mediterranean coast. I decided to let
him remain in the dream picture, therefore, and told
him so, which seemed to please him, for his eyes lighted
up. He always understands exactly what I mean when
I say odd things. I should never have felt quite the same
to him again, I think, if he had stared and asked "What
dream picture?"
I had been brought on this expedition strictly for use,
not for ornament. We were going from Aigues Mortes
to St. Gilles and from St. Gilles to Nfmes, therefore Aries
was already a landmark in our past. I could walk
about and amuse myself if I liked, but I must be at the
inn before the return of my master and mistress to arrange
206
THE MOTOR MAID
1'^
\ ^
^
ft light repast collected at Aries, as we should have to
lunch later at Ntmes, and the resources of Aigues Mortes
were not supposed to be worthy of millionaires in search
of the picturesque. There were several neat packages,
the contents of which would aid and abet such humble
refreshment as the City of Dead Waters could produce;
but I had more than an hour to play with; and much can
be done in an hour by an enthusiast with a good
circulation.
I had not quite realized, however, how largely my
brother's companionship contributed to my pleasure on
these excursions. We had seen almost everything together,
and suddenly it occurred to me that I was taking his pres-
ence too much for granted. He would not go with me
now, because in so small a round we were certain to
run up against the Tumours, and her ladyship might
be pleased to give me another lecture like that of evil
memory at Avignon. I would have risked future punish-
ment for the sake of present pleasure, and it was on my
tongue to say so; but I swallowed the wct-Js with diffi-
culty, like an over^Iarge pill.
So it fell out that I wandered off alone, sustaining myself
on high thoughts of Crusaders as I gazed up at the statue
of St. Louis, and paced the sentinels' pathway round the
gigantic ramparts, unchanged since Boccanegra built
them. Looking down from the ramparts the town,
enclosed in the fortress walls, was like a faded chess-
board cast ashore from the wreck of some ancient ship;
and round the dark walls and towers waves of yellow
sand and wastes of dead blue waters stretched as far as
my gaze could reach, toward the tideless sea.
THE MOTOR MAID 207
Louit bought this tangled deaeit of sand and water
in the middle of the thirteenth century from an Abbot of
Psalmodi, so the guide told me, and I liked the name of
that abbot so much that I kept saying it over and over,
to myself. Abbot of Psalmodi! It was to the ear what
an old, illuminated missal is to the eye, rich with crimson
Uke, and gold, and ultramarine. It was as if I heard an
echo from King Arthur's day, that dim, mysterious day
when history was flushed with dawn; the Abbot of
Psalmodi t
The heart of Aigues Mortes for me was the great tower
of Constance. bu» a very wicked heart, full of clever and
murderous devices, which was at its wickedest, not in
the dark ages, but in the glittering times of Louis XIV. and
of other Louis after him. That tower is the bad part
of the dream where horrors accumulate and you struggle
to cry out, while a spell holds you silent. In the days
when Aigues Mortes was not a dream, but a terrible
reality to the prisoners of that cruel tower, how many
anguished cries must have broken the spell; cries from
hideous little dungeons like rat-holes, cries from the far
heights of the tower where women and children starved
and were forgotten!
I was almost glad to get away; yet now that I am
away I shall often go back — in ray dream.
Alexander Dumas the elder went from Aigues Mortes
to St. Gilles, driving along the Beaucaire Canal, on that
famous tour of his which took him also to Les Baux;
and we too went from Aigues Mortes to St. Gilles, though
I 'm sure the Tumours had no idea that it was a pilgrim-
age in famous footprints. Only the humble maid and
I »..,
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208 THE MOTOR MAID
chauffeur had the joy of knowing that. We had both
read Dumas' account of his journey, and we laughed
over the story of the Uttle saint he stole at Les Baux.
It was a pleasant run to St. GiUes, though there was a
shrewish nip in the wind which made me hope that Lady
Tumour's mind was not running ahead to the mountains
and gorges in front of her, not far away by days
or miles now. I wanted her to get tangled up in them
before she had time to think of the cold, and then it would
be too late to turn tail.
^^ I had just begun to call the Uttle town of St. GiUes an
"ugly hole," and wonder what St. Louis saw to love in it
when, coming out of a squaUd, hilly street through which
I had tried to pick my way on foot, alone, suddenly the
facade of the wonderful old church burst upon my sight
a vision of beauty. '
No self-respecting motor-car would have condescended
to trust itself in such a street, and as a rabble of small
male St. Gillesites swarmed round the Aigle when she
stopped at the beginning of the ascent, Mr. Dane had to
play guardian angel. "I 've been here before," he said,
as usual, for this whole tour seems to be a twice-told tale'
for him. A few days ago I should have pitied him aloud
for not bemg able to blow the dust off his old impressions;
but now, when he speaks of past experiences, I thinki
"Oh, I wonder if this is another place associated in his
mmd with that luymd woman ?" For on mature delibera-
tion I have definitely niched her among the Horrors in
my mental museum. In front of me walked Sir Samuel
and Lady Tumour, whose very backs cried out their
loathing of St. GiUes; but abruptly the expression of
ir
THE MOTOR MAID 209
their shoulders changed; they had seen the fa9adt and
even they could not help feeling vaguely that it must be
unique in the world, that of its kind nothing could be more
beautiful.
That wa- iyeiorc I suvr it, for a respectful distance must
be maintai! led ijetween ' uose Who Pay and Those Who
Work; but T guessed rom the backs that something
extraordinary was about to be revealed. Then it was
revealed, and I would have given a good deal to have
some one to whom I could exclaim "Is n't it glorious!"
Still, I am luckily very good chums with myself, and
it is never too much trouble to think out new adjectives
for my own benefit, or to indicate quaint points of view.
I was soon making the best of my own society in the way
of intelligent companionship, shaking crumbs of half-
forgotten history out of my memory, and finding a dried
currant of fact here and there. In convent days there
was hardly a saint or saintess with whom I hadn't a
bowing acquaintance, and although a good many have
cut me since, I can generally recall something about them,
if necessary, as title worshippers can about the aristocracy.
I thought hard for a minute, and suddenly up rolled a
curtain in my mind, and there in his niche stood St. Gilles.
He was bom in Athens, and was a most highly connected
saint, with the blood of Greek kings in his veins, all
of which was eventually spilled like water in the name
of religion. It seemed very suitable that such perfection
of carving and proportion as was shown in steps, towers,
fa9ade, and frieze should be dedicated to a Greek saint,
who must have adored and understood true beauty as
few of his brother saints could.
Il
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210
THE MOTOR MAID
il
Mr. Dane had said, just before I started, that there
was a gem of a spiral staircase, called the Vis de St.
Gilles, which I ought to see, and a house, unspoiled since
mediaeval days; but the question of these sights was
settled adversely for me by my master and mistress.
The frieze they did admire, but it sufficed. Their inner
man and woman clamoured for a feast, and the eyes must
be sacrificed.
As for me, I did not count even as a sacrifice, of course,
but I followed them back to the car as I 'd followed them'
from it, and the car flew toward Ntmes.
Just at first, for a few moments which I hate to confess
to myself now, I was disappointed in Ntmes. The town
looked cold, and modem, and conceited after the melan-
choly charm of Aries and the mediaeval aspect of Avignon;
but that was only as we drove to our stately hotel in its
large, dignified square. Afterward — after the inevitable
lunching and unpacking — when I started out once again
in the society of my adopted relative, I prayed to
be forgiven.
A gale was blowing, but little cared we. A toque or
a picture-hat make all the difference in the world to a
woman's impressions, even of Paradise — if the wind be
ever more than a lovely zephyr there. Lady Tumour had
insisted on changing her motoring hr.t for a Gainsborough
confection which would, I was deadly certain, cause
her to loathe Nlmes while memory should last; but the
better part was mine. Toqued and veiled, the mistral
could crack its cheeks if it liked; it could n't hurt mine,
or do unseemly things to my hair.
In the gardens of Louis XIV. I gave myself to Ntmes
THE MOTOR MAID
211
as devotee forever; and as the glories of the past slowly
dawned upon me, that Past round which the King had
planted his flowers and formal trees, and placed vases and
statues, I wished I were a worthier worshipper at the
shrine.
I think that there can be no more beautiful town in
the world than Nlmes in springtime. The wind brought
fairy perfumes, and lovely little green and golden puff-
balls fell from the budding trees at our feet, as if they
wanted to surprise us. The fish in the crystal clear water
of the old Roman baths, which King Louis tried to spoil
but could n't, swam back and forth in a golden net of sun-
shine. We two children of the twentieth century amused
ourselves in attempting to reconstruct the baths as they
must have looked in the first century; and the glimmering
columns under the green water, now lost to the eye, now
seen again, white and elusive as mermaids playing hide
and seek, helped our imagination.
Far ep'"- " was it to go back to Rome in the Temple
of Diani ^ autiful in ruin and so little changed except
by time, i ,.0 bring to the heart a pang of mingled joy
and pain, of sadness which women love and men resent
— unless they are poets. Doves were cooing softly there,
the only oracles of the temple in these days; and what
they said to each other and to us seemed more mysterious
than the sayings of common doves, because their ancestors
had no d^ H handed down much wisdom to them, from
generation to generation, ever since Diana was taken
seriously as a fr Mess, or perhaps even since the dim days
when Celtic gods were reigning powers.
From the gardens we went slowly to that other temple
N
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212 THE MOTOR MAID
which unthinking people and guide-books have named
the Maison Carr^, the most lovely temple out of Greece,
and the one which has suflFered most from sheer, uncom-
promising stupidity in modem days. Now it rests from
persecution, though it shows its scars; and I wondered
dully, as I stood gazing at the Corinthian columns —
strong, yet graceful — how so dull a copy as the Madeleine
could possibly have been evolved from such perfection.
Inside in the museum was the dearest old gentleman in
a tall hat, who explained to us with ingenuous pride and
dignity the splendid collection of coins which he himself
had given to the town. It was easy to see that they were
the immediate jewels of his soul; there was not one piece
which he did not know and love as if it had been his child,
though there were so many thousands that he alone could
keep strict count of them. He insisted gravely upon the
superiative value of the least significant in appearance,
but he could joke a little about other things than coins.
There was an old mosaic which we admired, with a faded
God of Love riding a winged steed.
"L* Amour s'en va," he chuckled, pointing to the half-
obUterated figure. " N'est pasf" and he turned to me
for confirmation. "I don't know yet," I answered.
"Mademoiselle is very fortunate — but very young,"
said the dear old gentleman, looking Uke a late eighteenth-
century portrait as he smiled under his high hat. "And
what thinks monsieur?"
"That it is better not to give him a chance to fly away,
by keeping the door shut against him in the beginning,"
repUed Mr. Dane, as coldly as if he kept his heart on ice.
Sunset was fading, like Love on the mosaic, when we
1^-.
THE MOTOR MAID
213
came to the amphitheatre; but the sky was still stained
red, and each great arch of stone framed a separate ruby.
It was a strange effect, almost sinister in its splendour,
and all the air was rose-coloured.
"Is it a good omen or an evil one for our future?" I
asked.
"Means storms, I think," the chauffeur answered in the
laconic way he affects sometimes, but there was an odd
smile in his eyes, almost like defiance — of me, or of Fate.
I did n't know which, but I should have liked to know.
:,i^
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CHAPTER XX
THE wind sang me to sleep that night in Ntmes
— sang in my dreams, and sang me awake
when morning turned a white searchlight on
my eyehds.
I was -lad to see sunshine, for this was the day of our
flight into the north, and if the sky frowned on the enter-
prise Lady Tumour might frown too, in spite of Bertie
and his chateau.
It was cold, and I trembled lest the word "snow"
should be dropped by the bridegroom into the ear of the
bnde; but nothing was said of the weather or of any
change in die programme, while I and paint and powder
and copper tresses were doing what Nature had refused
to do for her ladyship.
"Cold morning, madamel" remarked the porter, who
came to bring more wood for the sitting-room fire before
breakfast. He was a pohte and pleasant man, but I could
have boxed his ears. "Madame departs to^lay in her
automobile? Is it to go south or north ? Because in the
north "
With great presence of mind I dropped a pile of maps
and guide-books. *^
"What a clumsy creature you arel" exclaimed her lady-
ship playing into my hands. "J could n't underatand
tne last part of what he said."
S14
THE MOTOR MAID
215
Luckily by this time the man was gone; and my memoiy
of his words was extraordinarily vague. But a dozen
things contrived to keep me in suspense. Every one
who came near Lady Tumour had something to say about
the weather. Then, for the first time, it occurred to the
Aigle to play a trick upon us. Just as the luggage was
piled in, after numerous Uttle delays, she cast a shoe;
in other words, burst a tyre, apparently without any
reason except a mischievous desire to be aggravating.
Another half hour wasted I And fat, silvery clouds were
poking up their great white heads over the horizon in the
north, where, perhaps, they were shaking out powder.
The next thing that happened was a snap and a tinkle
in our inner workings, rather like the sound you might
expect if a giantess dropped a hairpin. " Chain broken I"
grumbled the chauffeur, as he stopped the car on the
level of a long, straight road, and jumped nimbly down.
"We ought n't to have boasted yesterday."
"Who's superstitious now?" I taunted him, as he
searched the tool-box in the same way a child ransacks
a Christmas stocking.
"Oh, about ruotor-cars! That's a different thing,"
said he calmly. "Cold, isn't it? My fingers are so
stiff they feel as if they were all thumbs."
"Et tu, Brute," I wailed. "For goodness' sake, don't
let her hear you. She 's capable even now of turning
back. The invitation to the chateau hasn't come —
and we 're not safely in the gorges yet."
"Nor shan't be soon, if this sort of thing keeps on,"
remarked the chauffeur. "We shall have to lunch at
Alais."
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216
THE MOTOR MAID
?iv
'■'■ i
"You say that as if it was the devil's kitchen."
"There 's probably first rate cooking in the devil's
kitchen; I 'm not so sure about the inns at Alais."
"But it 's arranged to picnic on the roud to-day for tl 5
first time, you know. They put up such good things at
N*mes, and I was to make cofFee in the tea-basket."
"That's why I wanted to get on. Picnic country
doesn't begin till after Alais. Who could lunch on a
dull roadside like this ? Only a starving tramp would n't
get indigestion."
It was true, and I began to detest the unknown Alais.
Perhaps, after all, we might sweep through the place, I
thought, without the idea of lunch occurring to the
passengers. But Mr. Dane's heart-to-heart talk with
the Aigle resulted in quite a lengthy argument; and no
sooner did a town group itself in the distance than Sir
Samuel knocked on the glass behind us.
"What place is this?" he asked.
"Alais," was the answer the chauffeur made with his
lips, while his eyebrows said "I told you so!" to roe.
"1 think we'd better lunch here," Sir Samuel went
on. And the arrival of a princely blue motor car at the
nearest inn was such a shuck to the nerves of the
landlady and her staff that the interval before lunch
was as long and solemn as the Dead March in Saul. To
show what he could do in an emergency, the chef
slaughtered and cooked every animal within reach for
miles around.
They appeared in a procession, according to their kind,
wiitta necessary disguised in rich and succulent sauces
which did credit to the creator's imagination; and there
lit
■!
THE MOTOR MAID 217
were reserve forces of cakes, preserves, and puddings,
all of which coldly furnished forth the servants' meal when
they had served our betters.
It was nearly three o'clock when we were ready to
leave Alais, and the chauffeur had on his bronze-statue
expression as he took his seat beside me after starting
the car.
"What 's the matter?" I asked.
"Nothing," said he, "except that I don't know where
we 're likely to lay our heads to-night."
"Where do you want to lay them?" I inquired
flippantly. " Any gorge will do for mine. "
" It won't for Lady Tumour's. But it may have to, and
in that case she will probably snap yours off."
"Cousin Catherine has often told me it was of no use
to me, except to show my hair. But are n't there hotels
in the gorge of the Tarn?"
"There are in summer, but they 're not open yet, and
the inns — well, if Fate casts us into one. Lady Tumour
will have a fit. My idea was: a splendid run through
some of the wildest and most wonderful scenery of France
— little known to tourists, too — and then to get out of
the Tam region before dark. We may do it yet, but if
we have any more trouble "
He did n't finish the sentence, because, as if he had
been calling for it, the trouble came. I thought that an
invisible enemy had fired a revolver at us from behind
a tree, but \t was only a second tyre, bursting out loud,
instead of in a ladylike whisper, like the other.
Down got Mr. Dane, with the air of a condemned
criminal who wants every one to believe that he is delighted
1^
11
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1^
218 THE MOTOR MAID
to be hanged. Down got I also, to relieve the car of n
weight during the weird process of "jacking up," thouj
the chauffeur assured me that I did n't matter any moi
than a fly on the wheel. Our birds of paradise remaine
in their cage, however. Lady Tumour glaring whenevj
she caught a glimpse of the chauffeur's head, as if Y
had bitten that hole in the tyre. But before us loome
mountains — disagreeable-looking mountains — more lik
emhonpoints growing out of the earth's surface tha
ornamental elevations. On the tops there was somethin
white, and I preferred having Lady Tumour glare at th
chauffeur, no matter how unjustly, than that her attentioi
should be caught by that far, silver glitter.
Suddenly my brother paused in his work, unbent hi
back, stood up, and regarded his thumb with as mucl
intentness as if he were an Indian fakir pledged to loci
ar iiothing else for a stated number of years. He pinchet
tlic nail, shook his hand, and then, abandoning it a;
an object of interest, was about to inflate the mendec
tyre when I came forward.
"You 've hurt yourself," I said.
"I didn't know you were looking," he replied, fixing
the air-pump. "Your back seemed to be turned."
"A giri who has n't got eyes in the back of her head is
incomplete. What have you done to your hand ?"
"Nothing much. Only picked up a spUnter somehow.
I tried to get it out and could n't. It will do when we
arrive somewhere."
"Let me try," I said.
" Nonsense I A little flower of a thing like you I Why,
you 'd faint at the sight of blood."
THE MOTOR MAID 219
"Oh, is it bleeding?" I asked, horriBed, and foigctting
to hide my horror.
He laughed. "Only a drop or two. Why, you're
as white as your name, child."
"That 's only at the thought," I said. "I don't mind
the fight, although I do think if Providence had made
blood a pale green or a pretty blue it would have been less
startling than bright red. However, it 's too late to change
that now. And if you don't show me your thumb, I '11
have hysterics instantly, and perhaps Se dischaiged by
Lady Tumour on the spot."
At this awful threat, which I must have looked terribly
capable of carrying out, he obeyed without a word.
A horrid little, thin slip of iron had gone deep down
between the nail and the flesh, and large drops of the
most sensational crimson were splashing down on to the
ground.
"The idea of your drinng like that!" I exclaimed
fiercely. But my voice quivered. "One, two, three 1"
I said to myself, and then pulled. I wanted to shut my
eyes, but pride forbade, so I kept them as wide open as
if my lids had been propped up with matches. Out
came the splinter of metal, and seeing it in my hand
— so long, so sharp — things swam in rainbow colours
for a few seconds; but I was outwardly calm as a Stoic,
and wrapped the thumb in my handkerchief despite my
brother's protests.
"Brave child," he said. "Thank you."
I looked up at him, and his eyes had such a beautiful
expression that a queer tenderness began stirring in my
heart, just as a youncr bird stirs in a nesi when it wakes
P
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220 THE MOTOR MAID
up. I could n't help having the impression that he h
the same thing for me at the moment. It was as if oi
thoughts rushed together, and then flew away in a hurr
frightened at something they 'd seen. He dashed bac
to his tyre pumping, and I pranced away down the roa
to look intently at a small white stone, as if it had been
pearl of price.
Afterward I stooped and picked it up. "You'i
a kind of little milestone in my life," I said to it. "
think I 'd like to keep you, I hardly know why." And
slipped it into the pocket of my coat.
Every sort of work that you do on a motor-car alwaj
seems to take exactly half an hour. You may think i
will be twenty minutes, but you know in your heart tha
it will be thirty, to the last second. The people in tb
glass-house lost count of time after the first, through play
in^^ some ghastly kind of double dummy bridge, and as the
seeued cheerful Lady Tumour and her dummy wer
evidently winning. But Mr. Dane did not lose count
I was sure; and when we had started again, and got i
mile or two beyond Alais, he looked somewhat stemh
at the mountains which no longer appeared ill-shapen
We mounted toward them over the heads of their childrer
the foothills, and came into a region which promisee
wild picturesqueness. There was an extra thrill, too
because the mountains were the Cdvennes, where Roberl
Louis Stevenson wandered with his Modestine, and slept
under the stars. Judging from the gravity of the
chauffeur's face he was not sure that we, too, might not
have to sleep under the stars (if any), a far less caie-free
company than "R. L. S." and his donkey.
THE MOTOR MAID 221
Sir Samuel has now exchanged cards for a Taride
map, which he often studied with no particular result
beyond mental satisfaction, as he generally held it upside
down and got his information by contraries. But at a
straggling hillside village where two roads bifurcated he
suddenly became excited. Down went the window, and
out popped his head.
"You go to the left here!" he shouted, as the Aigle was
winging gracefully to the right.
"I think you 're mistaken, sir," replied the chau£Feur,
stopping while the car panted reproachfully. "I know
the 'Routes de France' says left, but they told me at
Alais a new road had now been finished, and the old one
condemned."
"Well, I 'd take anything I heard there with a grain of
salt," said Sir Samuel. "How should they know?
MotorK^ars are strange animals to them. If there were
a new road the "Routes" would give it, and / vote for
the left."
"Whose car is it, anyway?" Lady Tumour was heard
to murmur, not having forgiven my Fellow Worm two
burst tyres and a broken chain.
Since chauffeurs should be seen and not heard, Mr.
Jack Dane looked volumes and said not a word. Backing
the big Aigle, who was sulking in her bonnet, he put her
nose to the left. Now we were making straight, almost
as the crow flies, for the Cevennes; but luckily for Lady
Tumour's peace of mind the snowy tops were hidden from
sight behind other mountains' shoulders as we approached.
A warning chill was in the air, like the breath of a ghost;
but it could not find its way through the glass; and a few
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222
THE MOTOR MAID
' '■' i
cartloads of oranges which we passed opportunely looked
warm and attractive, giving a delusive suggestion of the
south to our road.
It was gipsy-land, too, for we met several tramping
families: boldly handsome women, tall, dark men and
boys with eagle eyes, and big silver buttons so well cared
for they must have been precious heirlooms. '"Steal all
you can, and keep your buttons bright,' is a gipsy
father's advice to his son," said Jack Dane, as we wormed
up the road toward a pass where the brown moun-
tains seemed to open a narrow, mysterious doorway.
So, fold upon fold shut us in, as if we had entered
a vast maze from which we might never find our way
out; and soon there was no trace of man's work any-
where, except the zigzag lines of road which, as we glanced
up or down, looked like thin, pale brown string tied as
a child ties a "cat's-cradle." We were in the ancient
fastnesses of the Camisards; and this world of dark rock
under clouding sky was so stem, so wildly impressive, that
it seemed a country hewn especially for religious martyrs,
a last stand for such men as fought and died praying,
calling themselves "enfants de Dieu." Bending out
from the front seat of the motor, my gaze plunged far
down into the beds of foaming rivers, or soared far up to
the dazzling white world of snow and steely sky toward
which we steadily forged on. Oh, there was no hope
of hiding the snow now from those whom it might con-
cern I But Lady Tumour still believed, perhaps, that
we should avoid it.
The higher the Aigle rose, climbing the wonderful road
of snakelike twistings and tuming.s above sheer precipices.
^■'l
THE MOTOR MAID
223
the more thrilling was the effect of the savage landscape
upon our souls — those of us who consciously possess souls.
We had met nobody for a long time now; for, since
leaving the region of pines, we seemed to have passed
beyond the road-mender zone, and t^e zone of waggons
loaded with dry branches like piled < iks' horns. Still, as
one could never be sure what might not be lurking behind
some rocky shoulder, where the road turned like a tight
belt, our musical siren sang at each turn its gay little
mocking notes.
After a lonely mountain village, named St. Germain-en-
Calberte, and famous only because the tyrant-priest
Chayla was burned there, the surface of the road changed
with startling abruptness. Till this moment we 'd known
no really bad roads anywhere, and almost all had been as
white as snow, as pink as rose leaves, and smooth as
velvet; but suddenly the Aigle sank up to her expensive
ankles in deep, thick mud.
"Hullo, what's this bumping? Anything wrong with
the car?"
Out popped Sir Samuel's anxious head from its luxur-
ious cage.
"The trouble is with the road," answered the chauffeur,
without so much as an "I told you sol" expression on his
face. "I 'm afraid we 've come to that diclassie part."
Poor Sir Samuel looked so humble and sad that I was
sorry for him. "My mistake!" he murmured meekly.
"Had we better turn after all?"
"I fear we can't turn, or even run back, sir," said
Mr. Dane. "The road 's so bad and so narrow, it would
be rather risky."
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THE MOTOR MAID
This was a mild way of putting it; and he was con-
siderate in not mentioning the precipice which fell abruptly
down under the uneven shelf he generously called a road.
.Sir Samuel gave a wary glance down, and said no more.
Luckily Lady Tumour, sitting inside her cage, on the
side of the rock wall we were following up the mountains,
could not see that unpleasant drop under the shelf, or
even quite realize that she was on a shelf at all. Her
husband sat down by her side, more quietly than he had
got up, even forgetting to shut the window; but he was
soon reminded of that duty.
"Are you frightened?" the chauffeur asked me; and I
thought it no harm to answer: "Not when you 're
driving."
"Do you mean that? Or is it only an empty little
compliment?" he catechized me, though his eyes did
not leave the narrow slippery road, up which he was steer-
ing with a skill of a woman who aims for the eye of a
delicate needle ^/ith the end of a thread a size too big.
"I mean itl" I said.
"I 'm glad," he answered. "I was going to tell you
not to be nervous, for we shall win through all right with
this powerful car. But now I will save my breath."
"You may," I said, "I'm very happy." And so
I was, though I had the most curious sensation in my toes,
as if they were being done up in curl papers.
On we climbed, creeping along the high shelf which
was so untidily loaded with rough, fallen stones and
layers of mud, powdered with bits of ice from the rocky
wall that seemed sheathed in glass. Icicles dangled
heavy diamond fringes low over the roof of the car; snow
1 ,
THE MOTOR MAID 225
lay in dark hollows which the sun could never reach even
in summer noons; and as we ploughed obstinately on,
always mounting, the engine trembling, our fat tyres
splashed into a custardy slush of whitish brown. The
shelf had been slippery before; now, slopping over with
this thick mush of melting snow or mud, it was like driving
through gallons of ice pudding. The great Aigle began
to tremble and waltz on the surface that was no surface;
yet it would have been impossible to go back. I saw
by my companion's set face how real was the danger we
were in; I saw, as the car skated first one way, then
another, that there were but a few inches to spare on
either side of the road shelf; the side which was a rocky
wall, the side which was a precipice; T saw, too, how the
man braced himself to this emergency, when three lives
besides his own depended on his nerve and skill, almost
upon his breath — for it seemed as if a breath too long, a
breath too short, might hurl us down — down — I daied
not look or think how far. Yet the fixed look of courage
and self-confidence on his face was inspiring. I trusted
him completely, and I should have been ashamed to
feel fear.
But it was at this moment, when all hung upon the
driver's steadiness of eye and hand, that Lady Tumour
chose to begin emitting squeaks of childish terror. I
had n't known I was nervous, and only found out that
I was highly strung by the jump I gave at her first shriek
behind me. If the chauffeur had started — but he
did n't. He showed no sign of having heard.
I would not venture to turn, and look round, lest the
slightest movement of my body so near his arm might
226
THE MOTOR MAID
disturb him; but poor Sir Samuel, driven to desperation
by his wife's hysterical cries, pushed down the glass again.
"Good Lord, Dane, this is appalling 1" he said. "My
wife can't bear it. Is n't it possible for us to — to "
he paused, not knowing how to end so empty a sentence.
"All that 's possible to do I 'm doing," returned the
chauflFeur, still looking straight ahead. And instead
of advising the foolish old bridegroom to shake the bride
or box her ears, as surely he was tempted to do, he
added calmly that her ladyship must not be too anxious.
We were going to get out of this all right, and before long.
"Tell him to go back. I shall go backl " wailed Lady
Tumour.
"Dearest, we can't!" her husband assured her.
"Then tell him to stop and let me get out and walk.
This is too awful. He wants to kill us."
"Can you stop and let us get out?" pleaded Sir
Samuel.
" To stop here would be the most dangerous thing we
could do," was the answer.
"You hear, Emmie, my darling."
"I hear. Impudence to dictate to you I Whatever
you are willing to do, I won't be bearded."
One would have thought she was an oyster. But
she was quite right in not wishing to add a beard to her
charms, as already a moustache was like those coming
events that cast a well-defined shadow before. For an
instant I half thought that Mr. Dane would try and stop,
her tone was so furious, but he drove on as steadily as
if he had not a passenger more fit for Bedlam than for a
motor-car.
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THE MOTOR MAID
227
Seeing that Dane stuck like grim death to his deter-
mination and his steering-wheel, Sir Samuel shut the
window and devoted himself to calming his wife who,
I ima^ne, threatened to tear open the door and jump
out. The important thing was that he kept her from
doing it, perhaps by bribes of gold and precious stones,
and the Aigle moved on, writhing Uke a wounded snake
as she obeyed the hand on the wheel. If the slightest
thing should go wrong in the steering-gear, as we read
of in other motor-cars each time we picked up a news-
paper — but other cars were not in charge of Mr. Jack
Dane. I felt sure, somehow, that nothing would ever
go wrong with a steering-gear of whose destiny he was
master.
Not a word did he speak to me, yet I felt that my
silence of tongue and stillness of body was approved of by
him. He had said that we would be "out of this before
long," so I believed we would; but suddenly my eyes
told me that something worse than we had won through
was in store for us ahead.
•I:
CHAPTER XXI
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yl LL this time we 'd been struggling up hill, but
l^^ abruptly we came to the top of the ascent, and had
•*■ A. to go sliding down, along the same shelf, which
now seemed narrower than before. Looking ahead, it
appeared to have been bitten off round the edge here and
there, just at the stiffest zigs and zags of the nightmare
road. And far down the mountain the way went winding
under our eyes, like the loops of a lasso; short, jerky loops,
as we came to each new turn, to which the length of our
chassis forced us to bow and curtsey on our slippery,
sliding skates. Forward the Aigle had to go until her
bonnet hung over the precipice, then to be cautiously
backed for a foot or two, before she could glide ticklishly
down the next steep gradient.
Involuntarily I shrank back against the cushions, bit
my lip, and had to force myself not to catch at the arm
of the seat in those giddy seconds when it felt as if we
were dropping from sky to earth in a leaky balloon;
but if the biood in your veins has been put there by decent
ancestors who trail gloriously in a long line behind you,
I suppose it 's easier for you not to be a coward than it
is for people like the Tumours, who have to be their
own ancestors, or buy them at auctions.
The first words my companion spoke to me came as
the valley below us narrowed. "Look there," he said,
S28
THE MOTOR MAID
229
nodding; and my gaze followed the indication, to light
joyously upon a distant col, where clustered a friendly
little group of human habitations.
The sight was like a signal to relax muscles, for though
there was a long stretch still of the appalling road
between us and the col, the eye seemed to grasp safety,
and cling to it.
"Beyond that col we shall strike the rotde nationale,
which we missed by coming this way," said Mr. Dane;
and then it was the motor only which gave voice, until
we were close to the oasis in our long desert of danger.
That comforting voice was like a song of triumph as the
Aigle paused to rest at last before a gendarmerie and a
rough, mountain inn. Some men who had been standing
in front of the buildings gave us a hearty cheer as we drew
up at the door, and grinned a pleasant welcome.
"We have b<e i watching you a long way oflF," said a
tall gendarme to the chauffeur, "and to tell the truth we
were not happy. That road has been dsclasaie for some
time now, and is one of the worst in the country, even in
fine weather. It was not a very safe experiment, mon-
sieur; but we have been saying to each other it was a
fine way to show off your magnificent driving."
Laughing, Jack Dane assured the gendarme that it
was not done with any such object, and Sir Samuel, out
of the car by this time, with the indignant Lady Tumour,
wanted the conversation translated. I obeyed imme-
diately, and he too praised his chauffeur, in a nice manly
way which made me the more sorry for him because he
had succeeded in marrying his first love.
"I should like to pay you compliments too," said I
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THE MOTOR MAID
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hurriedly, in a low voice, when Sir Samuel and Isa
Tumour had gone to the inn door to revive thei
selves with blood-warming cordials after their thrillii
experience. "I should like to, only — it seems to |
beyond compliments."
" I hate compliments, even when I deserve them, whi<
I don't now," replied the youpg man whom I 'd be<
comparing sentimentally in my mind with the sun-go
steering his chariot of fire up nnd down the steeps
heaven from dawn to sunset. "And I 'd hate them abo'
all from my — from my little pal."
Nothing he could have named me would have pleas<
me as well. During the wild climb, and wilder drop, \
had hardly spoken to each other, yet I felt that I cou
never misunderstand him, or try frivolously to aggrava
him again. He was too good for all that, too good to I
played with.
"You are a man — a real man," I said to myself,
felt humble compared with him, an insignificant wisp (
a thing, who could never do anything brave or grei
in life; and so I was proud to be called his "pal.
When he asked if I, too, did n't need some cordial,
only laughed, and said I had just had one, the stronge
possible.
"So have I," he answered. "And now we ought t
be going on. Look at those shadows, and it 's a goo
way yet to Florae, at the entrance of the gorge."
Already night was stretching long gray, skeleton fingei
into the late sunshine, as if to warm them at its glo
before snufiing it out.
It was easier to say we c^-ht to go, however, than i
THE MOTOR MAID 231
induce Lady Tumour to get into the car again, after all
she had endured, and after that "bearding" which evi-
dently rankled still. She had not forgiven the chauffeur
for the courage which for her was merely obstinacy and
impudence, nor her husband for encouraging him; but
the glow of the cordial in her veins warmed the cockles
of her heart in spite of herself (I should think her heart
was all cockles, if they are as bristly as they sound);
and as it would be dull to stop on this col for the rest
of her life, she at last agreed to encounter further
dangers.
"Come, come, that's my brave little darling 1" we
heard Sir Samuel coo to her, and dared not meet each
other's eyes.
The road, from which we ought never to have strayed,
was splendid in engineering and surface, and we winged
down to earth in a flight from the clouds. Ice and snow
were left behind on the heights, and the Aigle gaily careered
down the slopes like a wild thing released from a weary
bondage. As we whirled earthwards, embankments and
railway bridges showed here and there by ourside, but we
lost all such traces of feverish modem civilization as we
swept into the dusky hollow at the bottom of which Florae
lay, like a sunken town engulfed by a dark lake.
We did not pause in the curiously picturesque place,
which looked no more than a village, with its gray-brown
houses and gray brown shadows huddled confusedly
together. Probably it looked much the same when the
Camisards used to hide themselves and their gunpowder
in caves near by; and certainly scarce a stone or brick
had been added or removed since Stevenson's eyes saw
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THE MOTOR MAID
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the town, and his pen wrote of it, as he turned awa;
there from the Tarn region, instead of being the fin
Englishman to explore it. And what a wild region i
looked as we and the Aigle were swallowed up in thi
yawning mouth of the gorge!
In an eveiy-day world, above and outside, no doubt i
was sunset, as on other evenings which we had knowi
and might know again; but this hidden, undergrounc
country had no place in an every-day world. It seeme<
almost as if my brother and I (I can't count the Tumours
for they were so unsuitable that they temporarily cease<
to exist for us) were explorers arriving in an air^ship
unannounced, upon the planet Mars.
The moon, a glinting silver shield, shimmered pal
through ragged red clouds like torn and blood-staine<
flags; and the walls of the gorge into which we penetrated
bleakly glittering here and there where the moon touche<
a vein of mica, were the many-windowed castles of th
Martians, who did not yet know that they had visitor
from another world.
There were fantastic villages, too, ' ose builders an(
inhabitants must have drawn their r > uitectural inspira
tion from strange mountain forms id groupings, afte
the fashion of those small animals who defend themselve
by looking as much as possible like their surroundings
And if by some mistake we had n't landed on Mars, W4
were in gnome-land, wherever that might be.
There was no ordinary twilight here. The brown
gn ■ of rocks and wild rock-villages was flushed with re(
ana shadowed with purple; but as the moon drank u]
the ruddy draught of sunset, the landscape crouche(
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THE MOTOR MAID 233
and hunched its shoulders into shapes ever more extraoi^
dinaiy. The white light spilled down from the tilted
crescent like silver rain, and bleached the few pink peach-
blossoms, which bloomed timidly under the shelter of
snow-mountains, to the pallor of fluttering night-moths,
throwing out their clusters in sharp contrast against dark
rocks. The River Tarn, ceding onward through the gorge
toward the Garonne, was scaled with steel on its emerald
back, like a twisting serpent. Over a bed of gravel, white
as scattered pearls, the sequined lengths coiled on; and
the snake-green water, the strange burnt-coral vegetation
like a trail of blood among the pearls, the young foliage of
trees, filmy as wisps of blowing gauze, were the only
vestiges of colour that the moon allowed to live in the
under-world which we had reached. But above, on
the roof of that world — "les Gausses" — where we had
left ice and snow, we could see purple chimneys of rock
rising to an opal sky, and now and then a mountain bon-
fire, like a great open basket of witch-rubies, glowing
beneath the moon.
"This is the last haunt of the fairies,*' I said under
my breath, but the man by my side heard the murmur.
"I thought you 'd find that out," he said. "Trust
you to get telepathic messages from the elf-folk! Why,
this goi^ teems with fairy tales and legends of magic,
black and white. The Rhine Valley and the Black Forest
together have n't as many or as wonderful ones. I should
like you to hear the stories from some of the village people
or the boatmen. They believe them to this day."
"Why, of course" I said, gravely. Then, a question
wanted so much to be asked, that when I refused it asked
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THE MOTOR MAID
f|.;
itaelf in a great hurry, before I could even catch it by i
limtf-^iul. "Was the with you when you were hei
before r'
" She V ' he echoed. " I don't understand."
"T'-: i '/ of the battlement garden," I exj^aine
asha: *<] ".tit' repentant now that it was too late.
1^ u '^ n li: answer for a moment. Then he laughs
an t ic 30 't "«f lai*gh. "Oh, my roman^ of the battl
men^ .c'ar'l". ? Yc , she was with me in this gorge. SI
is vi* nit J ts
"i p.oikIm if :ie is thinking about you to-night?"
asked knov.).^ he meant that the mysterious lady wi
carrif^ aloi.g on this journey in his spirit, as I was i
the car.
" Not seriously, if at all," he answered, with what seemc
to me a forced lightness. " But I am thinking of her -
thoughts which she will probably never know."
Then I did wish that I, too, had a hidden sorrow i
my life, a man in the background, but as unlike Monsiei
Charretier as possible, for whose love I could call upc
my brother's sympathy. And I suppose it was becau!
he had some one, while I had no one, in this Strang
hidden fairyland like a secret orchard of jewelled fruit
that I felt suddenly very sad.
He pointed out Castlebouc, a spellbound chateau c
a towering crag that held it up as if on a tall black finge
above a village which might have fallen off a canvas I
Gustave Dord. Farther on lay a strange place calU
Prades, memorable for a huge buttress of rock exact!
like the carcass of a mammoth petrified and hanging on
wall. Then, farther on still, over the black face of tl
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THE MOTOR MAID 235
rodu flashed a whiteims of wairing waters, pouring cas-
cades like bridal veib whose lace was made of mountain
snows.
" Here we are at Ste. Enemie," said Mr. Dane. " Don't
you remember about her — ' King Dagobert's daughter,
ill-fated and fair to look upon?' Well, at this village of
hers we must either light our lamps or rest for the night,
which ever Sir Samu«l — I mean her ladyship — decides."
So be stopped, in a little town which looked a place of
fairy enchantment under the moon. And as Uie song
of the motor changed into jog^ng prose with the putting
on of the brakes, open flew the door of an inn. Nothing
could ever have looked half so attractive as the rosy glow
of the picture suddenly revealed. There was a miniature
hall and a quaint stairway — just an impresaonist glimpse
of both in play of firelight and shadow. With all my
might I Willed Lady Tumour to want to stay the night.
The whole force of my mind pressed upon that part of her
" transformation " directly over the deciding-cells of her
brain.
The chauffeur jumped down, and re? pectfully inquired
the wishes of his passengers. Would they remain here,
if there were rooms to be had, and take a boat in tlie
morning to make the famous descent of the Tarn, while Jie
car went on to meet them at Le Rosier, at th* end of the
Gorge? Or would they, in spite of the darkness,
risk "
"We'll risk nothing," Lady Turr our promptly cut
him short. "We've run risks to-day till I feel as if
I 'd been in my grave and pulleu out again. No more
for me, by dark, thank you, if I have to sleep in the car!"
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"I hope your ladyship won't have to do that," Tetumed
my Fellow Wonn, alive though trodden under foot. "]
have never spent a night in Ste. Enemie, but I 've lunched
here, and the food is passable. I should think the room:
would be clean, though rough "
*'I don't find this country attractive enough to paj
us for any hardships," said the mistress of our fate. "]
never was in such a dreary, God-forsaken waste! An
there no decent hotels to get at ?"
Patiently he explained to her, as he had to me, how th<
better hotels which the Gorge of the Tarn could boasi
were not yet open for the summer. "If we had no
had such a chapter of accidents we should have rui
through as far as this early in the day, and could thei
have followed the good motoring road down the gorge
seeing its best sights almost as well as from the river
but "
"Whose fault were the accidents, I should like to know ?'
demanded the lady. But obviously there was no answe
to that question from a servant to a mistress.
"Shall I inquire about rooms?" the chauffeur asked
calmly.
And it ended in Sir Samuel going in with him, con
ducted by a smiling and somewhat excited young persoi
who had been holding open the door.
They must have been absent for ten minutes, whicl
seemed half an hour. Then, when Lady Tumour ha(
begun muttering to herself that she was freezing, Si
Samuel bustled back, in a cheerfulness put on awkwardly
like an ill-fitting suit of armour in a pageant.
"My dear, they 're ve^ full, but two French gentlemei
THE MOTOR MAID
237
were kind enough to ^ve up their room to us, and the
landlady 'U put them out somewhere "
"What, you and I both squashed into one room I"
exclaimed her ladyship, forgetful, in haughty horror,
of her lod^ng-house background.
"But it 's all they have. It 's that or the motor, since
you won't risk **
" Oh, very well, then, I suppose it can't JnU mel" groaned
the bride, stepping out of the car as if from tumbril to
scaffold.
What a way to take an adorable adventure I I was
sorry for Sir Samuel, but dimly I felt that I ought to be
still sorrier for a woman temperamentally unable to enjoy
anything as it ought to be enjoyed. Next year, maybe,
she will look back on the experience and tell her friends
that it was **fun"; but oh, the pity of it, not to gather the
flowers of the Present, to let them wither, and never pluck
them till they are dried wrecks of the Past I
I was ready to dance for joy as I followed her ladyship
into the miniature hall which, if not quite so alluring when
viewed from the inside, had a friendly, welcoming air
after the dark mountains and cold white moonlight. I
didn't know yet what arrangements had been made
for my stable accommodation, if any, but I felt that I
should n't weep if I had to sit up all night in a warm
kitchen with a puny cat and a snory dog.
The stairs were bare, and our feet clattered crudely
as we went up, lighted by a stout young girl with bared
arms, who carried a candle. "What a hole!" snapped
Lady Tumour; but when the door of a bedroom was
opened for her by the red-elbowed one, she oied out in
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238
THE MOTOR MAID
despair. "Is this where you expect me to sleep, Samuel 1
I 'm surprised at youl I *m not sure it is n't an insultl"
" My darling, what can / do ? " implored the unfortunate
bridegroom.
The red-elbowed maiden, be^nning to ta?:e offence, set
the candlestick down on a narrow mantelpiece, with a
slap, and removed herself from the room with the dignit)
of a budding Jeanne d'Arc. We all three filed in, I in tht
rear; and for one who won't accept the cup of life as th*
best champagne the prospect certainly was depressing.
The belongings of the "two gentlemen" who were
giving up their rights in a lady's favour, had not yet beer
transferred to the "somewhere outside." Those slipper;
under the bed could have belonged to no species of humai
being but a commercial traveller; and on the table an(
one chair were scattered various vague collars, neckties
and celluloid cuffs. There was no fire in the fireplace
nor, by the prim look of it, had there ever been one in th
half century or so since necessity called for an inn to b
built.
I snatched from the chair a waistcoat tangled up ii
some suspenders, and Lady Tumour, flinging herself dowi
in her furs, burst out crying like a cross child.
"If this is what you call adventure, Samuel, I hate it,'
she whimpered. "You would bring me motoring!
want a fire. I want hot water. I want them now. An<
I want the room cleared and all these awful things takei
away this instant. I don't consider them decerd. Whal
ever happens, I shan't dream of getting into that b©
to-night, and I don't feel now as if I should eat an
dinner."
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THE MOTOR MAID
239
Distracted, Sir Samuel looked piteously at me, and I
sprang to the rescue. I assured her ladyship that every-
thing should be made nice for her before she quite knew
what had happened. If she would have patience for
five minutes, only five, she should have everything she
wanted. I would see to it myself. With that I ran
away, followed by Sir Samuel's grateful eyes. But, once
downstairs, I realized what a task I had set myself.
The whole establishment had gone mad over us.
There had been enough to do before, with the house full
of ces messieurs, les commis voyageurs, but it was com-
paratively simple to do for them. For la noblesse Anglaise
it was different.
There were no men to be seen, and the three or four
women of the household were scuttling about crazily in
the kitchen, like hens with their heads cut off. The
patronage was so illustrious and so large; there was so
much to do and all at once, therefore nobody tried to do
anything but cackle and plump against one another.
Enter Me, a whirlwind, demanding an inmiediate
fire and hot water for washing. Landlady and assistants
were aghast. There had never been anything in any
bedroom fireplace of the inn less innocent than paper
flowers; bedroom fireplaces were for paper flowers;
while as for washing it was a bMise to want to do so in
the evening, especially with hot water, which was a mad-
ness at any time, unless by doctor's orders. Besides,
did not mademoiselle see that everybody had more than
they could do already, in preparing dinner for the great
people! There was plenty of time to put the bedroom
in order when it should be bedtime. If the noble lady
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210 THE MOTOR MAID
were so fatigued that she must lie down, why, the bed had
only been slept in for one night by two particularly sympa-
thetic messieurs. It would be presque un crime to change
linen after so brief an episode, nevertheless for a client
of such importance it should eventually be done.
For a moment I was dashed by this volume of eloquence,
but not for long, for I was pledged. A wild glance round
the kitchen showed me a kettle standing empty in a comer.
I seized it, and though it was heavy, swung it to an open
door near which I could see a ghostly pump. I flew out,
and seized that ghost by its long and ri^d arm.
"Let me," swd a voice.
It was the v(»ce of Mr. Jack Dane.
1
CHAPTER XXn
Y
OU dear! " I thought. But I only said, "How
sweet of youl" in a nice, ladylike tone. And
while he pumped the wettest and coldest water
I ever felt, he drily advised me to call him "Adversity " if
I found his "uses sweet," since he wasn't to be Jack
for me. What if he had known that I always call hun
"Jack" to myself?
He not only pumped the kettle full, but carried it
into the kitchen, and bullied or flattered the goddesses
there until they gave him the hottest place for it on the
red-hot stove. Meanwhile, as my eyes accustomed them-
selves to darkness after light, I spied in the courtyard of
the pump a shed piled with wood; and my uncomfortably
prophetic soul said that if Lady Tumour were to have a
fire, the woodpile and I must do the trick together. Souls
can be mistaken though, sometimes, if consciences never
can; and Brother Adversity contradicted mine by darting
out again to see what I was doing, ordering me to stop,
and doing it all himself.
I ran to beg for immediate bed-linen while he annexed
a portion of the family woodpile, and we met outside my
mistress's door. On the threshold I confidently expected
her grateful ladyship to say: "What are you doing with
that wood, Dane?" iiut iihe was too much crushed
under her own load of cold and discomfort to object to
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242
THE MOTOR MAID
his and wish it transferred to me. I 'd knelt down to
make a funeral pyre of paper roses, when in a voice low
yet firm my brother ordered me to my feet. This was n't
work for ^rls when men were about, he grumbled; and
perhaps it was as well, for I never made a wood fire in
my life. As for lum, he might have been a fire-tamer, so
quickly did the flames leap up and try to lick his hands.
When it was certun that they could n't go stealthily
crawling away again, he shot from the room, and in two
minutes was back with the big kettle of hot water under
whose weight I should have staggered and fallen, perhaps.
By this time I had made the bed, and tumbled all
reminders of the two "sympathetic messieurs" ruthlessly
into no-man's land outside the door. Things began to
look more cheerful. Lady Tumour brightened visibly;
and when appetizing smells of cooking stole through the
wide cracks all round the door she decided that, after all,
she would dine.
It was not until after I had seen her descend with her
husband, and had finished unpacking, that I had a chance
to think of my own affairs. Then I did wonder on what
shelf I was to lie, or on what hook hang, for the night. I
had no information yet as regarded my own sleeping or
eating, but both began to assume importance in my eyes,
and I went down to learn my fate. Where was I to dine ?
Why, in the kitchen, to be sure, since the salle a manger was
in use as a sitting-room until bedtime. As for sleeping
— why, that was a difiBcult matter. It was true that the
English milord had spoken of a room for me, but in the
press of business it had been forgotten. What a pity that
the chauffeur and I were not a married couple, n'est pas f
!; Si
THE MOTOR MAID
243
That would make everything quite simple. But — as
it was, no doubt there was a box-room, and matters
would arrange themselves when there was time to attend
to them.
" Matters have already arranged themselves," announced
Mr. Jack Dane, from the door of the pump-court "I
heard Sir Samuel speak about your accommodation, and
I saw that nothing was being done, so I discovered the
box-room, and it is now ready, all but bed-covering. And
for fear there might be trouble about that, I 've put Lady
Tumour's cushions and rugs on the alleged bed. Would
you like to have a look at your quarters now, or are you
too hungry to care?"
"I'm not too hungry to thank you," I exclaimed.
"You are a kind of genie, who takes care of the poor who
have neither lamps nor rings to rub."
"Better not thank me till you 've seen the place," said
he. "It *s a villainous den; but I did n't think any one
here would be likely to do better with it than I would.
Anyhow, you '11 find hot water. I unearthed — literally
— another kettle. And it 's the first door at the top of
the back stairs."
I flew, or rather stumbled, up the ladder-like stairway,
with a candle which I snatched from the high kitchen
mantelpiece, and at the top I laughed out, gaily. In the
narrow passage was a barricade of horrors which my
knight had dragged from the box-room. On strange old
hairy trunks of cuwhide he had piled broken chairs,
bandboxes covered with flowered wall-paper, battered
clocks, chipped crockery, fire-irons, bundles done up in
blankets, and a motley collection of unspeakable odds
i
244
THE MOTOR MAID
)■ ,
and ends that would have made a sensational jumble
sale. I opened the low door, and peeped into the room
with which such liberties had been taken for my sake.
Although it was no more than a store cupboard, my
wonderful brother had contrived to ^ve it quite an air
of coziness. The tiny window was open, and was doing
its best to drive out mustiness. A narrow hospital cot
stood against the wall, spread with a mattress quite an
inch thick, and piled with the luxurious rugs and cushions
from the motor car. I was sure Lady Tumour would
have preferred my sitting up all night or freezing coverless
rather than I should degrade her possessions by making
use of them; but Mr. Dane evidently hadn't thought
her opinion of importance compared with her maid's
comfort. Two wooden boxes, placed one upon another,
formed a wash-hand stand, which not only boasted a
beautiful blue tin basin, but a tumbler, a caraffe full of
water, and a not-much-cracked saucer ready for duty
as a soap-dish. The top box was covered with a rough,
clean towel, evidently filched from the kitchen, and this
piece of extra refinement struck me as actually touching.
A third box standing on end and spread with another
towel, proclaimed itself a dressing-table by virtue of at
least half a looking glass, lurking in one comer of a
battered frame, like a sinister, partially extinguished eye.
Other furnishings were a kitchen chair and a small
clothes-horse, to compensate for the absence of wall-
hooks or wardrobe. On the bare floor — o^ height of
luxury 1 — ^lay the fleecy white rug whose hig' lission it
was to warm the toes of Lady Tumour when inotormg.
On the floor beside the box wash-hand stand, a small
THE MOTOR MAID
245
kettle was pleasantly puffing, doing its best to heat the
room with its gusty breath; and the clothes-horse had a
saddle of towels which I shrewdly suspected had been
intended for her ladyship or some other guest of impor-
tance in the house.
How these wonders had been accomplished in such a
short space of time, and by a man, too, would have passed
my understanding, had I not begun to know what manner
of man the chauffeur was. And to think that there was
a woman in the world who had known herself loved by
him, yet had been capable of sending him awayl
If he would do such thmgs as these for an acquaintance,
at he^t a "pal," what would he not do for a woman
beloved? I should have liked to duck that creature
under the pump m the court, on just such a nipping night
as this.
He had not forgotten my dressing bag, which was on
the bed, but I could not stop to open it. I had to run
down to the kitchen again, and tell him what I thought
of his miracles. He was not there, but, at the sound of
my voice, he appeared at the door of the court, drying hb
hands, having doubtless been making his toilet at the
accommodating pump. In the crude light of unshaded
paraffin lamps with tin reflectors, he looked tired, and
I was sharply reminded of the nervous strain he had
gone through in that ordeal on the mountains, but he
smiled with the delight of a boy when I burst into thanks.
"It was jolly good exercise, and limbered me up a bit>
after sitting with my feet on the brake for so long," said
he. "May I have my dinner with you?"
My answer was rather enthusiastic, and that seemed
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246
THE MOTOR MAID
— Sf~ .r
n
M
to please him, too. A quarter of an hour later I can
down again, having made myaelf tidy meanwhile, in tb
room which he had retrieved from the jungle. Had tl
landlady but had the ordering of the change, my quartei
would have been fifty per cent leas attractive, I wt
sure, and told my brother so.
We were both starving, but there was too mudi to d
in the dining-room for domestics to expect attentioi
As for Monsieur le Chauffeur, he was informed that tl
presence of a mechanician would be permitted in tl
galle a manger, though a femme de chambre might n(
enter there. I begged him to go, but, of course, I shoul
have been surprised if he had. "I have a plan wort
two of that," he said to me. "Do you remember tl
picnic preparations we brought from Nlmes? It seen
about a week ago, but it was only this morning. W
might as well try to eat on a battlefield as in this kitchei
at present, and if we 're kept waiting, we may develo
cannibal propensities. What about a picnic a deux i
the glass cage, with electric illuminations ? The water
still hot in the automatic heater under the floor, an
you shall be as warm as toast. Besides, I '11 grab a ju
of blazing soup for a first course, and come back f(
coffee afterward."
I clapped my hands as I used to when a child and m
fun-loving young parents proposed an open air f^fa
"Oh, how too nice!" I cried. "If you don't think th
Tumours would be angry?"
"I think the labourers are worthy of their hire," sai
he. "I '11 fetch your coat for you. No, you *re not {
come without it"
THE MOTOR MAID
UT
The oar, it appeared, was lodged in the court; and my
brother's prophecies for the success of the picnic were
more than fulfilled. Never was such a feasti I got out
the gorgeous tea-basket, trembling with a guilty joy, and
Jack washed the white and gokl cups and plates at the
pump between courses, I drying them with cotton waste,
which the car generously (Novided. Besides the cabbage
soup and good black coffee, foraging expeditions produced
apricot tarts, nuts, and raisins. We both agreed that
DO food had ever tasted so good, and probably never
wouU again; but I kept to myself one thought which
crept into my mind. It seemed to me that nothing would
ever be really mterestmg in my life, when the chauffeur
— the terrible, dreaded chauffeur — should have gone
out of it forever. In a few weeks — but I wouldn't
think ahead; I put my soul to enjoying every minute,
even the tidying of the tea-basket after the picnic was
over, for that business he shared with me, like the rest.
And when I dreamed, by-and-by in my box-room, that
he was polishmg my boots, Lady Tumour's boots, the
boots of the whole party, I waked up to tell myself that
it was most likely true.
3W
YV'i
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inl
CHATTER XXra
f;'
YOU selfish little brute!" was my first addivss I
myself as I realised my Me-ness, between wak
ing and sleeping, in the morning at Ste. Enemit
I had never asked Jack where and how he was gmn
to spend the night Thmk of that, after all he ha
done for mel
It was only just dawn, but already .here was a stirrin
under my window. Perhaps it was that which ha
roused me, not the early prick of an awakening coi
science.
The first thmg I did to-day was (as it had been yestei
day) to bounce up and climb on to a chair to lode out (
the high window; but it was a very different windo
and a very different scene. I now discovered thj
my room gave on the pump court, and to my su
prise, I saw that through the blue silk blinds <
the Aigle which were all closely drawn, a light wi
streaming. This was very queer indeed, and mu
mean something wrong. My imagination pictured
modem highwayman inside, with the electric lam]
turned on to help him rifle the car, and I stood on tipto
peering out of Uie tmy aperture which was close und
the low ceiling of the box-room. Ought I to screai
and alarm the household, since I knew not where to {
and call the chauffeur?
248
THE MOTOR MAID
249
To be sine, there was very little, if anything, of value,
which a thief could cairy away, but an abandoned villain
might revenge himself for disappointment by slashing
the tyres, or perhaps even by setting the car on fire.
At the thought of such a catastrophe, which would
bring the trip to an end and separate me at once from the
society of my brother (I 'm afraid I cared much more
about loaing him than for the Tumours' loss of their
Aigle) I was impelled to run down in my nightgown and
mule* to do battle single-handed with the ruflSan; but
suddenly, before I had quite deciiied, out went the light
in the blue-curtained gla.ss cage. In another instant
the car door opened, and Jack Dane quietly got out.
In a second I understood. I knew now, without
asking, where he had spent liis night. Poor fellow —
after such a day!
Someone spoke to him — someone who had been making
that disturbing noise in the woodshed. The household
was astir, and I would be astir, too. I did n't yet know
what was to happen to-day, but I wanted to know, and
I was prepared to find any plan good, since, in a country
like this, all roads must lead to Adventures. My one
fear was, that if the Tumours took to a boat, I should
have to go with them to play cloak-bearer, or hot-water-
bag-carrier, while the car whirled away, free and glorious.
The thought of a whole day in my master's and mistress's
society, undiluted by the saving presence of my adopted
brother, was like bolting a great dry crust of yesterday's
bread. What an indigestion I should have!
I was too wise, however, to betray the slightest anxiety
one way or the other; for if her ladyship suspected me (A
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250
THE MOTOR MAID
presuming to have a preference she would punish me by
crushing it, even if inconvenient to herself. I was exquis-
itely meek and useful, lighting her fire (with WH.d brought
me by Jack) supplying her with hot water, and wrangling
with the landlady over her breakfast, which would have
consisted of black coffee and unbuttered bread, had it not
been for my exertions. Breakfasts more elaborate were
unknown at Ste. Enemie; but coaxings and arguments
produced boiled eggs, goats' milk, and confiture, which I
added to the repast, and carried up to Lady Tumour's
room.
No definite plans had been made even then; but
harassed Sir Samuel told his chauffeur to engage a boat,
and have it ready "in case her ladyship had a whim to
go in it." The motor was to be in readiness simultane-
ously, and then the lady could choose between the two
at the last moment.
Thus matters stood when my mistress appeared at
the front door, hatted and coated. At last she must
dedde whether she would descend the rapids of the Tarn
(quite safe, kind rapids, which had never done their worst
enemies any harm), or travel bv a newly finished road
through the gorge, in the car, missing a few fine bits of
scenery and an experience, but, it was to be supposed,
enjoying extra comfort. There was the big blue car;
there was the swift green river, and on the river a boat
with two respectful and not unpicturesque boatmen.
"Ugh I the water looks hideously cold and dangerous,"
she sighed, shivering in the clear sunlight, despite her
long fur coat. " But I have a horror of the motor, since
yt.-. "day. I may get over it, but it will take me days.
THE MOTOR MAID
251
It's a hateful predicament — between ttoo evib, one
fts bad as the other. I ought n't to have been subjected
to it"
"Dane says everyone does go by the river. It a the
thing to do," ventured Sir Samuel, becoming subtle.
"They 've put a big foot-warmer in the boat, and you can
have your own rugs. There *s a place where we land, by
the way, to get a hot lunch."
With a moan, the bride pronounced for the boat, which
was a big flat-bottomed punt, au reliable in appearance as
pictures of John Bull. I fetched her rugs from the car.
She was helped into the boat, and then, as my fate remained
to be settled, I asked her in a voice soft as silk what were
her wishes in regard to her handmaiden.
"Why, you '11 come with us in the boat, of course.
What else did you dream?" she replied sharply.
Down went my heart with a thump like a fish dropping
of! its hook. But as I would have moved toward the
pebbly beach, a champion rode to my defence.
"Your ladyship doesn't think a load of five might
disturb the balance of the boat?" mildly suggested the
chau£Feur. "The usual load is two passengers and two
boatmen; and though there's no danger in the rapids
if "
She did not give him time to finish. "Oh, very well,
)ou must stop with the car, Elise," said she. "It is
only one inconvenience more, among many. No doubt
I can put up with it. Get me the brandy flask out of the
tea-basket."
I would have tried to scoop all the green cheese out of
the moon for her, if she had asked me, I was so deUghted.
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252
THE MOTOR MAID
And part <A my joy was mixed up with the thought that
he WMited me to be with him. He had actually schemed
to get me! I envied no one in the world, not even the
kyvdy lady of the battlement garden. He was mine for
to-day, m spite of her — so there!
Sir SasMwl got into the boat, and wrapped his wife in
n^. The boatmen pushed oft. Away the flat-bottomed
punt slid down the clear green stream, the sun shining,
the cascades spariding, the strange precipices which wall
the gorge, copper-tinted in the morning light. It was the
most wonderful world; yet Lady Tumour was cackling
angrily. Was she afraid? Had she changed her mind?
No, the saints be praised 1 She was only burning holes
in her petticoat on the brazier supplied by the hotel 1 I
tened away to hide a smile almost as wicked as a grin,
and before I looked round again, the swift stream had
swept the boat out of sight round a jutting comer
of rock. We were safe. This time 'A really vxu oui
world, our car, and our everything. We didn't «ven
Deed to " pretend."
Ste. Enemie is only at the gates of the gorge — a
porter's lodge, so to speak, and in the Aigle we sped on
into the fairyland of which we 'd had our first pair,
moonlit peep last night. There were castles made by
man, and castles made by gnomes; but the gnomes were
the better architects. Their dwellings, carved of rock,
towered out of the river to a giddy height, and some were
broken in half, as if they had been rent asunder by
gnome cannon, in gnome battles. There were gnome
villages, too, which looked exactly like human habitations,
with clustering roofs plastered against the mountain-side.
Ill
Mkttk
THE MOTOR MAID
253
But the hand of man had not placed one of these stones
upon another.
TTiere were gigantic rock statues, and watch-towers
for gnomes to warn old-time gnome populations, perhaps,
when their enemies, the cave-dwellers, were coming that
way from a manBwaoth-hunt; and there was a wonderful
grotto, fitted wi^ doors and windows, a grotto whose
occupants must surely have inherited the mansion from
their ancestors, the cave-dwelfcw. Every step of the way
History, gaunt and war-stained, stalked beside us,
followed hot-foot by his foster-mother. Legend; and the
first stories of the one and the last stories of the other
were tangled inextricably together.
Legend and histtMry were alike in one regard; both
told of brave men and beaatiful wamm; aad the people
we met as we drove, looked wor^ of dieir forefacsrs who
had fought and suffered for re^gion and imiependence,
in this strange, rock-wdled corridor, shared with fairies
and gnomes. The men were tall, with great bold, good-
natured eyes and apple-red cheeks, to which their indigo
blouses gave full value. The women were of gentle
mien, with soft glances; and the children were even
more attractive than their elders. Tiny girb, like walking
dolls, with dresses to the ground, bobbed us curtseys;
and sturdy little boys, curled up beside ancient grand-
fathers, in carts with old boots protecting the brakes,
saluted like miniature soldiers, or pulled off their quaint
round caps, as they stared in big-eyed wonder at our
grand, blue car. For th^m we were prince and princess,
not chauffeur and maid.
Sometimes our road through the gorge climbed hi^
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THE MOTOR MAID
A
¥
above the rushing green river, and ran along a narrow
shelf overhanging the ravine, but dear of snow and ice;
sometimes it plunged down the mountain-side as if on
purpose to let us hear the music of the water; and one
of these sudden swoops downward brought us in sight
of a ch&teau so enchanting and so evidently enchanted,
that I was sure a fairy's wand had waved for its creation,
perhaps only a moment before. When we were gone,
it would disappear again, and the fairy would flash down
under the translucent water, laughing, as she sent up a
spray of emeralds and pearls.
"Of course, it bn't real!" I exclaimed. "But do
let's stop, because such a knightly castle would n't. be
rude enough to vanish right before our eyes."
"No, it won't vanish, because it's a most courteous
little castle, which has been well brought up, and even
though its greatness is gone, tries to live up to its tradi-
tions," said Jack. "It always appears to everyone it
thinks likely to appreciate it; and I was certain it would
be here in its place to welcome you."
We smiled into each other's eyes, and I felt as if the
castle were a present from him to me. How I should
have loved to have it for mine, to make up for one poor
old chftteau, now crumbled hopelessly into ruin, and
despised by the least exacting of tourists! Coming upon
it unexpectedly in this green dell, at the foot of the preci-
pice, seeing it rise from the water on one side, reflected
as in a broken mirror, and dreped in young, golden
foliage on the other, it really was an ideal castle for a
fairy tale. A connoisseur in the best architecture of the
Renaissance would perhaps have been ungracious enough
iMiiyuii
THE MOTOR MAID
255
to pick faults; for to a critical eye the turrets and
arches might fall short of perfection; and there was
little decoration on the time-darkened stone walls, save
the thick curtain of old, old ivy; but the fairy grace
of the towers rising from the moat of ^tiering, bright
green water was gay and sweet as a song heard in
the woods.
"Some beautiful nymph ought to have lived here," I
said dreamily, when we had got out of the car. "A
nymph whose beauty wuj celebrated all over the world,
so that knights from far and near came to this lovely
place to woo her."
"Why, you might have heard the story of the place!"
said Jack. " It 's the Chateau de !a Caze, usually
called the Castle of the Nymphs, for instead of one,
eight beautiful nymphs lived in it. But their beauty
was their undoing. I don't quite know why they were
called 'nymphs,' for nymphs and naiads had gone out
of fashion when they reigned here as Queens of Beauty,
in the sixteenth century. But perhaps in those days to
call a girl a 'nymph' was to pay her a compliment. It
wouldn't be now, when chaps criticize the 'nymphery*
if they go to a dance! Anyhow, these eight sisters,
were renowned for their loveliness, and all the unmarried
gentlemen of France — according to the story' — as well
as foreign knights, came to pay court to them. The
unfortunate thing was, when the cavaliers saw the eight
girls together, they were all so frightfully pretty it was n't
possible to choose between them, so the poor gentlemen
fought over their rival charms, and were either killed or
went away unable to make up their minds. The sad end
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256
"Pi,
Ml'
THE MOTOR MAID
was, if you '11 believe me, that all the eight maidens died
unmarried, martyrs to their own incomparable charms."
"I can quite believe it," I answered, "and it wasn't
at all sad, because I 'm sure any girl who had once had
thb place for her home would have pined in grief at being
taken away, even by the most glorious knight of the
world."
"Come in and see their boudoir," said the knight who
worked, if he did not fight, for me.
So we went in, without the trouble of using battering
rams; for alas, the family of the eight nymphs grew tired
of their ch&teau and the gorge in the dreadful days of
the religious wars, and now it is an hotel. It would not
receive paying guests until summer, but a good-natured
caretaker opened the door for us, and we saw a number
of stone-paved corridors, and the nymphs' boudoir.
Their adoring father had ordered their portraits to be
painted on the ceiling; and there they remain to this
day, simpering sweetly down upon the few bits of ancient
furniture made to match the room and suit their taste.
Tliey smiled amiably at us, too, the eight Uttle faces
framed in Henrietta Maria curls; and their eyes said
to me, " If you want to be happy, m'amie, it is better not
to be too beautiful; or else not to have any sisters. Or
if Providence will send you sisters, go away yourself, and
visit your plainest friend, till you have got a husband."
Gazing wistfully back, as one does gaze at places
one fears never to see again, the Castle of the Nymphs
looked like a fantastic water-flower standing up out of
the green river, on its thick stem of rock. Then it was
gone; for our time was not quite our own, and we dared
THE MOTOR MAID
257
not linger, lest the boat with our Betters should arrive
at the meeting place before we reached it in the car. But
there were compensations, for almost with every moment
the goige grew grander. Cascades sparkled in the sun
like blowing diamond-dust. The rocks seemed set with
jewels, or patterned with mosaic; and there were caves —
caves almost too good to be true. Yet if we could believe
our eyes, they were true, even the dark cavern where,
once upon a time, lived a scaly dragon who terrorized
the whole country for miles around, and had no relish
for his meals unless they were composed oi the most
exquisite young maidens — though he would accept a
child as an hora d'auvre. In such a strange world as
this, after all, it was no harder to believe in dragons, than
in hiding countesses, fed and tended for months upon
months by faithful servants, while the red Revolution
raged; yet the countess and her cave were vouched for
by history, which ignored the dragon and his.
Not only had each mountain at least one cavern, but
every really eligible crag had its ruined castle; and each
ruin had its romance, which clung like the perfume of
roses to a shattered vase. There were rocks shaped
like processions of marching monks following uplifted
crucifixes; and farther on, one would have thought that
half the animals had scrambled out of the ark to a height
where they had petrified before the flood subsided. As
we wound through the gorge the landscape became so
strange, hewn in such immensity of conception, that it
seemed prehistoric. We, in the blue car, were anachron-
isms, or so I felt until I remembered how, in pre-motoring
days, I used to think that owning an automobile must be
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258 THE MOTOR MAID
like having a half-tamed minotaur in the family. A
for the Aigle, she was a friendly, not a vicious, monster
and as if to make up for her mistakes of yesterday, sh(
was to-day more like a demi-goddess serving an earth!;
apprenticeship in fulfilment of a vow than a dragoi
of any sort. Swinging smoothly round curve after curve
the noble car running free and cooing in sheer joy o
fiery life, as she swooped from height to depth, I, too, fel
the joy of life as I had hardly ever felt it before. Th
chautfeur and I did not speak often, but I looked up a
him sometimes because of the pleasure I had in seeinj
and re-seeing the face in which I had come to have per
feet confidence; and I fancied from its expression tha
he felt as I felt.
So we came to Les Vignes, and lunched together at i
table set out of doors, close to the car, that she might no
be left alone. We had for food a strange and somewha
evil combination; wild hare and wild boar; but the;
seemed to suit the landscape somehow, as did the mystics
music of the conch-shells, blown by passing boatmen
It was like being waked from a dream of old-time romance
by a rude hand shaking one's shoulder, to hear the voice
of Sir Samuel and Lady Tumour, he mildly arguing, sb
disputing, as usual.
Poetry fled like a dryad of some classic wood, scam
by a motor omnibus; and, though the gorge as far a
Le Rozier was magnificent, and the road all the way t(
Millau beautiful in the sunset, it was no longer 01*
gorge, or our road. That made a difference!
CHAPTER XXIV
THERE was a telegram from "Bertie" at Millau.
The invitation to the ch&teau where he was stop-
ping near Clermont-Ferrand, had been asked for
and given. I heard all about it, of course, from the con-
versation between the bride and groom; for Lady Tumour
prides herself on discussing things in my presence, as if
I were deaf o. a piece of furniture. She has the idea
that this trick is a habit of the " smart set " ; and she would
allow herself to be tarred and feathered, in Directoire
style, if she could not be smart at smaller cost.
Nothing was ever more opportune than that telegram,
for her ladyship had burnt her frock and chilled her
liver in the boat, and though the hotel at Millau was
good, she arrived there with the evident intention of mak-
ing life a burden to Sir Samuel. The news from Bertie
changed all that, however; and though the weather was
like the breath of icebergs next morning, Lady Tumour
was warmed from within. She chatted pleasantly with
Sir Samuel about the big luggage which had gone on to
Clermcmt-Ferrand, and asked his advice concerning the
becomingness of various dresses. The one unpleasant
thing she allowed h«wlf to say, was that "certainly
Bertie was n't ddng this for nothing," and that his step-
father might take her word for it, Bertie would be neither
skw nor ^y in »»*TniTig his rewsrd. But Sir Samuel only
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THE MOTOR MAID
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grinned, and appeared rather amused than otherwiae a
the shrewdneu of hia wife's insight into the young man'i
character.
I was conscious that my jacket had n't been made foi
motoring, when I came ou^ into the sharp morning aii
and took my place in the Aigle. I was inclined to envj
my mistress her fur rugs, but to my surprise I saw lyin^
on my seat a Scotch plaid, nlaider than any plaid evei
made in Scotland.
"Does that belong to the hotel?" I asked the chauf
feur, as he got into the car.
" It belongs to you," said he. "A present from MilUi
for a good child."
"Oh, you mustn't!" I exclaimed.
"But I have," he returned, calmly. "I'm not goinj
to watch you slowly freezing to death by my side; foi
it won't be exactly summer to-day. Let me tuck yoi
in prettily."
I groaned while I obeyed. " I 've been an expense
to you all the way, because you would n't abandon mc
to the lions, even in the most expensive hotels, where 1
knew you would n't have stayed if it had n't been for me
And now, this!"
"It cost only a few francs," he tried to reassure me
"We 'II sell it again — afterward, if that will make yoi
happier. But sufficient for the day is the rug thereof —
at least, I hope it will be. And don't flaunt it, for if hei
ladyship sees there 's an extra rug of any sort on board
she '11 be clamouring for it by and by."
Northward we started, in the teeth of the wind, which
made mine chatter until I began to tingle with the rusb
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THE MOTOR MAID
261
of owne, wUch always goes to my head like champagne.
Our road was a mere white thread winding loosely through
a sinuous valley, and pulled taut as it rose nearer ami
nearer to the cold, high level of let Cautaet, the roof of that
gnome-land where we liad journeyed together yesterday.
From snow-covered billows which should have been
grayed with mountain wild-flowers by now, a fierce blast
pounced down on us like a swooping bird of prey. We
fel( the swift whirr of its wings, which almost took our
breath away, and made the Aigle quiver; but like a bull
that meets its enemy with lowered horns, the brave car's
bonnet seemed to defy the wind and face it squarely. We
swept on toward the snow-reaches whence the wind-
torrent came. Soon we were on the flat plateau of the
Causse, where last year's faded grass was frosted white,
and a torn winding-sheet wrapped the limbs of a dead
world. There was no beauty in this death, save the wild
beauty of desolation, and a grandeur inseparable from
heights. Before us grouped the mountains of Auveigne,
hoary headed; and looking down we could see the twist-
ings of the road we had travelled, whirling away and
away, like the blown tail of a kite trailed over mountain
and foothill.
"The people at Millau told me I should get up to St.
Flour all right, in spite of the fall of snow," said the
chauffeur, his eyes on the great white waves that piled
themselves against a blue-white sky, " but I begin to think
there 's trouble before us, and I don't know whether I
ought to have persisted in bringing you."
"Persisted!" I echoed, defending him against himself.
"Why, do you suppose wild horses would have dragged
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THE MOTOR MAID
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Lady Tumour in any other direction, now that she 's
actually invited to be the guest of a marquis in a real
Uve castle?"
"A railway train could very well have dragged her in
the same direction and got her to the castle as soon, if not
a good deal sooner than she 's likely to get in this
car, if we have to fight snow. I proposed this waj
originally because I wanted you to see the Gorge of the
Tarn, and because I thought that you 'd like Clermont-
Ferrand, and the road there. It was to be your adventure,
you know, and I shall feel a brute if I let you in for a worse
one than I bargained for. Even this morning it was n't
too late. I could have hinted at horrors, and they would
have gone by rail like lambs, taking you with them."
"Lady Tumour can do nothing like a lamb," 1
contradicted him. "I should never have forgiven you
for sending me away from — the car. Besides, Ladj
Tumour wants to teuf-teuf up to the ch&teau in hei
sixty-horse-power Aigle, and make an impression on the
aristocracy."
*' Well, we must hope for the best now," said he. " But
look, the snow 's an inch thick by the roadside even &\
this level, so I don't know what we mayn't be in for,
between here and St. Flour, which is much higher —
the highest point we shall have to pass in getting to the
Chd,teau de Roquemartine, a few miles out of Clermont-
Ferrand."
"You think we may get stuck?"
"It's possible."
"Well, that would be an adventure. You know I love
adventures."
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263
"But I know the Tumours don't. And if " He
did n't finish his sentence.
Higher we mounted, until half I^-ance seemed to lie
spread out before us, and a solitary sign-post with "Paris-
Perpignans " suggested unbelievable distances. The Aigle
glided up gradients like the side of a somewhat toppling
house, and scarcely needed to change speed, so well did
she like the rarefied mountain air. I hked it too, though
I had to he thankful for the plaid; and above all I liked
the wild loneliness of the Causse, which was unUke any-
thing I ever saw or imagined. The savage monotony
of the heights was broken just often enough by oases of
pine wood; and the plains on which we looked down were
blistered with conical hills, crowned by ancient castles
which would have rejoiced the hearts of mediaeval painters,
as they did mine. Severao-le-Chateau, perched on its
naked pinnacle of rock, was best of all, as we saw it from
our bird's-eye view, and then again, almost starthngly
impressive when we had somehow whirled down below
it, to pass under its old huddled town, before we flew up
once more to higher and whiter levels.
Never had the car gone better; but Lady Tumour had
objected to the early start which the chauffeur wanted,
and the sun was nearly overhead when many a huge
shoulder of glittering marble still walled us away from our
journey's end. The cold was the pitiless cold of northern
midwinter, and I remembered with a shiver that Millau
and Clermont-Ferrand were separated from one another
by nearly two hundred and fifty kilometres of such moun-
tain roads as these. Oh yes, it was an experience, a
splendid, dazzUng experience; nevertheless, my cowardly
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THE MOTOR MAID
thoughts would turn, sunflower-like, toward warmtl
warm rooms, even stuffy rooms, without a single window
open, fires crackling, and hot things to drink. Still,
would n't admit that I was cold, and stiffened my musck
to prevent a shudder when my brother asked me cheei
fully if I would enjoy a visit to the Gouffre de Fadira(
close by.
A "gouffre" on such a dayl Not all the splendou)
of the posters which I had often seen and admired, coul
thrill me to a desire for the expedition; but I tried I
cover my real feelings with the excuse that it must no
be too late to make even a small ddtour. Mr. Jack Dar
laughed, and replied that he had no intention of makir
it; he had only wanted to test my pluck. "I belie\
you 'd pretend to be delighted if I told you we had plen1
of time, and mustn't miss going," said he. "But don
be frightened; this is n't a Gouflfre de Padirac day, thoug
it really is a great pity to pass it by. What do you ss
to lunch instead?"
And we rolled through a magnificent mediaeval gat
way into the ancient and unpronounceable town i
Marvejols.
Before he had time to make the same suggestion to h
more important passengers, it came hastily from withi
the glass cage. So we stopped at an inn which proud
named itself an hotel; and chauffeur and maid wei
entertained in a kitchen ^"stitute of air and full of clamou
Nevertheless, it seemt- ^ snug haven to us, and nevi
was any soup better than the soup of "Marvels," as S
Samuel and Lady Tumour called the place.
The word was "push on," however, for we had sti
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THE MOTOR MAID
265
the worst before us, and a long way to go. The Quality
had promised to finish its luncheon in an hour; and
well before the time was up, we two Worms were out in
the cold, each engaged in fulfilling its own mission. I
was arranging rugs; the chauffeur was pouring some
libation from a long-nosed tin upon the altar of his god-
dess when our master appeared, wearing such an "I
have n't stolen the cream or eaten the canary" expression
that we knew at once something new was in the wind.
He coughed, and floundered into explanations. "The
waiter, who can speak some English, has been frightening
her ladyship," said he. "After the day before yesterday
she 's grown a bit timid, and to hear that the cold she has
suffered from is nothing to what she may have to experience
higher up, and later in the day, as the sun gets down
behind the mountains, has put her off motoring. It
seems we can go on from here by train to Clermont-Fer-
rand and that 's what she wants to do. I hate deserting
the car, but after all, this is an expedition of pleasure, and
if her ladyship has a preference, why should n't it be
gratified?"
"Quite so, sir," responded the chauffeur, his face a
blank.
"My first thought on making up my mind to the train
was to have the car shipped at the same time," went on
Sir Sarc'iel, "but it seems that can't be done. There 's
lots of red tape about such things, and the motor
might have to wait days on end here at Marvels, before
getting off, to say nothing of how long she might be on
the way. Whereas, I 've been calculating, if you start
now and go as quick as you can, you ought to be at the
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266 THE MOTOR MAID
chftteau (he pronounced it "chattoe") before us. Oui
trwn does n't leave for more than an hour, and it 's a verj
slow one. Still, it will be warm, an ' we have cards and
Tauchnitz novels. Then, you know, you can unload the
luggage at the ch&teau and run back to the railway statior
at Clermont-Ferrand, see to having our big boxes sem
out (they '11 be there waiting for us) and meet our train
What do you think of the plan ?"
"It ought to do very well — if I 'm not delayed on thi
road by snow."
"Do you expect to be?"
"I hope no . But it 's possible."
"Well, he ittdyship has made up her mind, and w
must risk it. I '11 trust you to get out of any scrape."
The chauffeur smiled. "I '11 try not to get into one,
he said. "And I'd better be off — unless you hav
further instructions?"
"Only the receipt for the luggage. Here it is," sal
Sir Samuel. " And here are the keys for you, Elise. H(
ladyship wants you to have everything unpacked by th
time she arrives. Oh — and the rugs! We shall nee
them in the train."
"Isn't mademoiselle going with you?" asked m
brother, showing surprise at last.
"No. Her mistress thinks it would be better for h(
to have everything ready for us at the 'chattoe.' Yc
see, it will be almost dinner-time when we get there."
"But, sir, if the car's delayed "
"Well," cut in Sir Samuel, "we must chance it, I'
afraid. The fact is, her ladyship is in such a nervoi
state that I don't care to put any more doubts into h
fel!
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THE MOTOR MAID
267
head. She 's made up her mind what she wants, and
we 'd better let it go at that."
If I 'd been near enough to my brother I should have
stamped on his foot, or seized some other forcible method
of suggesting that he should kindly ^old his tongue. As
it was, my only hope lay in an imploring look, which he
did not catch. However, in pity for Sir Samuel he said
no more; and before we were three minutes older, if her
ladyship had yearned to have me back, it would have been
too late. We were off together, and another day had been
given to us for ours.
The chauffeur proposed that I should sit inside the car;
but I had regained all my courage in the hot inn-kitchen.
I was not cold, and did n't feel as if I should ever be cold
again.
The road mounted almost continuously. Sometimes,
as we looked ahead, it seemed to have been broken off
short just in front of the car, by some dreadful earth con-
vulsion; but it always turned out to be only a sudden dip
down, or a sharp turn like the curve of an apple-paring.
At last we had reached the highest peak of the Roof of
France — a sloping, snow-covered roof; but steep as was
the slant, very little of the snow appeared to have
slipped off.
The C^vennes on our right loomed near and bleak;
the Auvergne stretched endlessly before us, and the virgin
snow, pure as edelweiss, was darkened in the misty distance
by patches of shadow, purple-blue, like beds of early
violets.
At first but a thin white sheet was spread over our road,
but soon the lace-like fabric was exchanged for a fleecy
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THE MOTOR MAID
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blanket, then a thick quilt of down, and the motor began
to pant. The winds seemed to come from all ways at
once, shrieking like witches, and flinging their splinters of
ice, fine and small as broken needles, against our cheeks.
Still I would not go inside. I could not bear to be warm
and comfortable while Jack faced the cold alone. I knew
his fingers must be stiff, though he would n't confess to
any suffering, and I wished that I knew how to drive the car,
so that we might have taken turns, sitting with our hands
in our pockets.
In the deepening snow we moved slowly, the wheels
slipping now and then, unable to grip. Then, on a
steep incline, there came a report Uke a revolver shot.
But it did n't frighten me now. I knew it meant a
collapsed tyre, not a concealed murderer; but there
could n't have been a much worse place for "jacking up."
Neverthele? i. it 's an ill tyre that blows up for its own
good alone, and the forty noinutes out of a waning after-
noon made the chauffeur's cold hands hot and the hot
engine cold.
" h'«d ten miles of desolation, then
v.ed only to emphasize that
^n-mile stretch of desert, and
a there a glimpse of the railway-
Une, like a great black snake, lost in the snow; now and
then the gilded picture of an ancient town, crowning some
tall crag that stood up from the flat plain below like a
giant bottle. And there was one thrilling view of a high
viaduct, flinging a spider's web of glittering steel across a
vast and shadowy ravine. " Garabit I " said the chauffeur,
as he saw it; and I remembered that this road was not
Starting on again
a tiny hamlet wh.
desolation; again i
another hamlet; hei
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THE MOTOR MAID
280
new for him. He did not tall much. Was he thinking
of the companion who perhaps had sat beside him before ?
I wondered. Was it because he thought continually of
her that he looked at me wistfully sometimes, often in
silence, wishing me away, maybe, and the woman who
had spoilt his life by his side again for good or ill ?
Suddenly we plunged into a deep snow-bank which
deceitfully levelled a dip in the road, and the car stopped,
trembling like a horse caught by the hind leg while in
full gallop.
On went the first speed, most powerful of all, but not
powerful enough to fight through snow nearly up to the
hubs. The Aigle was prisoned like a rat in a trap, and
could neither go back nor forward.
"Well?" I questioned, half laughing, half frightened,
at this fulfilment of the morning's prophecy.
"Sit still, and I 11 try to push her through," said Jack
jumping out into the deep snow. " It 's only a drift in a
hollow, you see; and we should have got by the worst,
just up there at St. Flour."
I looked where his nod indicated, and saw a town as
dark and seemingly as old as the rock out of which it
grew, climbing a conical hill, to dominate all the wide,
white reaches above which it stood, like an armoured
sentinel on a watch-tower. As I gazed, struck with admir-
ation, which for an instant made me forget our plight,
he began to push. The car, surprised at his strength
and determination, half decided to move, then changed
her mind and refused to budge. In a second, before he
could guess what I meant to do, I had flashed out of my
seat into the snow, and was wading in his tracks to help
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270
THE MOTOR MAID
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him when he snatched me up — a hand on either side of
my waist — and swung me back into my place again.
"Little wretchl" he exclaimed. "How dare you
Hisobey me?"
Then I was vexed, for it was ignominious to be treated
as a child, when I had wanted to aid him likb a comrade.
"You are very unkind — very rude," I said. "You
would n't dare to do that, or speak like that to Her."
He laughed loudly. " What — have n't you forgotten
'Her?'" (As if I ever could I) "Well, I may tell you,
it 's just because I did dare to 'speak like that' to a
woman, that I 'm a chauffeur stuck in the snow with
another man's car, and the "
"The rest is another epithet which concerns me, I sup-
pose," I remarked with dignity, though suddenly I felt
the chill of the icy air far, far more cruelly than I had
felt it yet. I was so cold, in this white desolation, that
it seemed I must die soon. And it would n't matter at
all if I were buried under the drifts, to be found in the late
spring with violets growing out of the places where my
eye: nee bad been.
"Yes," said he, in that coc ay he has, which can
be as irritating as a chilblain. "It was an epithet con-
cerning you, but luckily for me I stopped to think before
I gioke — an accomplbhment I 'm only just beginning
to learn."
I swallowed something much harder and bigger thai
a cannon ball, and said nothing.
" Of course you 're covered with snc^ up to your knees
foolish child!" He was glaring ferociously at me.
"It doesn't matter."
THE MOTOR MAID
271
"It does matter most infernally. Don't you know
that you make no more than a featherweight of difference
to the car?"
"I feel as if I weighed a thousand pounds, now."
"It's that snow 1"
"No. It's you. Your crossness. I can't have
people cross to me, on lonely mountains, just when I *m
trying to help them."
His glare of rage turned to a stare of surprise. " Cross ?
Do you think I was cross to you ? "
"Yes. And you just stopped in time, or you would
have been worse."
"Oh, I see," he said. "You thought that the 'epithet'
was going to be invidious, did you ?"
"Naturally."
" Well, it was n't. I — no, I won't say it I That would
be the last folly. But — I was n't going to be cross. I
can't have you think that, whatever happens. Now sit
still and be good, while I push aga» :."
I weighed no more than half the thousand pounds now,
and the cannon ball had dissolved like a chocolate cream;
but the car stood like a rock, fixed, immutabfc?.
"There ought to be half a dozen < t me," sRk! the r i^auf-
feur. "Look here, little pal, thtie 's nothing els* or it;
I must trudge off to St. Flour and collect the missing five.
Are ycu afraid to be left here alone ?"
Of course I said no; but when he had disaj i**p ?
walking very fast, I thought of a large variety of 'm
that might happen; almost everything, in fact, frt an
earthquake to a mad bu',1. As the sun leaned far d* »wn
toward the west, the level red light lay like pools of bl i
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in the snow-hollows, and the shadows "came alive,"
as they used when I was a child lying awake, alone, watch-
ing the play of the fire on wall and ceiling.
Long minutes passed, and at last I could sit still no
longer. Gaily risking my brother's displeasure, now I
knew that he was n't "cross," I slipped out into the snow
again, opened the car door, stood in the doorway, hanging
on with one hand, and after much manoeuvring extri-
cated the tea-basket from among spare tyres and lu^age
on the roof. Then, swinging it down, planted it inside
the car, opened it, and scooped up a kettleful of snow.
As soon as the big white lump had melted ->ver a rose
and azure flame of alcohol, I added more snow, and still
more, until the kettle was filled with water. By the time
I had warmed and dried my feet on the automatic heater
under the floor, the water bubbled; and as jets of steam
began to pour from the spout I saw six figures
approaching, dark as if they had been cut out in black
velvet against the snow.
"Tea for seven!" I said to myself; but the kettle was
large, if the cups were few.
It took half an hour to dig the car out, and push her
up from the hollow where the snow I'ay thickest. When
she stood only a foot deep, she consented readily to mov
We bade good-bye to the five men, for whom we h !
emptied our not-too-well filled pockets, and forged,
bumbling, past St. Flour. It was a great strain for a
heavy car, and the chauffeur only said, "I thought so!"
when a chain snapped five or six miles farther on.
"What a good thing Lady Tumour is n't here I" said I,
as he doctored the wounded Aigle.
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"It took half an hour to dig the car >it, and push her
up from the hollow w/iere the snt .0 lay thickest "
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273
«
Lots of girls would be in a blue funk," said he. " I
could shake that beastly woman for not taking you
with her."
"Oh!" I exclaimed. "When I 'm not doing you any
hannl"
He glanced up from his work, and then, as if on an
irresistible impulse, left the chain to come and stand beside
me, as I sat wrapped up in his gift "for a good girl."
He gazed at me for a moment without speaking, and I
wonderingly returned the gaze, not knowing what was to
follow.
The moon had come sailing up like a great silver ship,
over the snow billows, and gleamed against a sky which
was still a garden of full-blown roses not yet faded, though
sunset was long over. The soft, pure light shone on his
dark face, cutting it out clearly, and he had never looked
so handsome.
" You don't mean to do me any harm, do you ? " he said.
"I couldn't if I would, and wouldn't if I could," I
answered in surprise.
"Yet you do me harm."
"You're joking!"
"I never was further from joking in my life. You
do me harm because you make me wish for something I
can't have, something it 's a constant fight with me, ever
since we 've been thrown together, not to wish for, not to
think of. Yet you say I *m cross! Now, do you know
what I mean, and will you help me a little to remain
your faithful brother, instead of tempting me — tempting
me, however unconsciously, to — to wish — for — for —
what a fool I ami I *m going to finish my mending."
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I sat perfectly still, with my mouth open, feeling as il
it were my chain, not the car's, which had broken I
Of course if it had n't been for all his talk of Her, \
should have known, or thought that I knew, well enough
what he meant. But how could I take his strange words
and stammered hints for what they seemed to suggest,
knowing as I did, from his own veiled confessions, that
he was in love with some beautiful fiend who had ruined
his career and then thrown him over!
I longed to speak, to ask him just one question, but I
dared not. No words would come; and perhaps if they
had, I should have regretted them, for I was so sure he
was not a man who would fall out of love with one woman
to tumble into love for another, that I did n't know what
to make of him; but the thought which his words shot
into my mind, swift and keen, and then tore away again,
showed me very well what to make of myself.
If I had n't quite known before, I knew suddenly, all in
a minute, that I was in love, oh, but humiliatingly deep in
love, with the chauffeur! It seemed to me that no nice,
well-regulated girl could ever have let herself go toboggan-
ing down such a steep hill, splash into such a sea of love,
unless the man were at the bottom in a boat, holding out
his arms to catch her as she fell. But the chauffeur had n't
the slightest intention of holding out his arms to the poor
little motor maid. He went on mending the chain, and
when he got into the car beside me again he began to
talk about the weather.
u
CHAPTER XXV
IT WAS ten o'clock when we came into Clermont-
Ferrand, which looked a beautiful old place in the
moonlight, with the great, white Puy de Dome
floating half way up the sky, like a marble dream-palace.
I trembled for our reception at the ch&teau, for every-
thing would be our fault, from the snow on the mountains
to Lady Tumour's lack of a dinner dress; and the con-
sciousness of our innocence would be our sole comfort.
Not for an instant did we believe that it would help our
case to stop at the railway station and arrange for the big
luggage to be sent the first thing in the morning; neverthe-
less, we satisfied our consciences by doing it, though we
were so hungry that everything uneatable seemed
irrelevant.
A young woman in a book, who had just pried into the
depths of her soul, and discovered there a desjjerate love,
would have loathed the thought of food; but evidently I
am unworthy to be a heroine, for my imagination called up
visions of soup and steak; and because it seemed so
extremely important to be hungry, 1 could quite well put
off being unhappy until to-morrow.
It is only three miles from Clermont-Ferrand to the
Chateau de Roquemartine, and we came to it easily, with-
out inquiries, Jack having carefully studied the road map
with Sir Samuel. He had on to stop at the porter's lodge
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THE MOTOR MAID
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to make sure we were right, and then to teuf-teuf up a lon|
straight avenue, sounding our musical siren as an at
nouncement of our arrival. It was only when I sa^
the fine old mansion on a terraced plateau, its cream
ston- white as peari in the moonlight, its rows upon row
of windows ablaze, that I remembered my position dis
agreeably. I was going to stay at this charming place, a
a servant, not as a member of the house-party. I woul(
have to eat in the servants' hall — I, Lys d'Angely, whosi
family had been one of the proudest in France. Whv
the name de Roquemartine was as nothing beside ours
It had not even been invented when oura was already old
What would my father say if he could see his daughtei
arriving thus at a house which would have been too mucl
honoured by a visit from him ? I was suddenly ashamed
My boasted sense of humour, about which I am usuallj
such a Pharisee, sulked in a corner and refused to come oul
to my rescue, though I called upon it. Funny it might be
to eat in the kitchens of inns, but I could not feel that it was
funny to be relegated to the servants' brigade in the private
house of a countryman of my father.
What queerly complicated creatures we little human
animals are! An avalanche of love had n't destroyed my
hunger. A knife-thrust in my vanity killed it in an instant;
and I can't believe this was simply because I 'm female.
I should n't be surprised if a man might feel exactly the
same — or more so.
"Oh, dear!" I sighed. "It 's going to be horrid here.
But" — with a stab of remorse for my self-absorption •—
"it 's just as bad for you as for me. You don't need to
stay in the house, though. You 're a man, and free.
THE MOTOR MAID
277
Don't stop for my sake. I won't have itl Please live in
an inn. There *s sure to be one near by."
" I 'm not going to look for it," said my brother. " You
need n't worry about me. I 've got pretty callous. I shall
have quarters for nothing here — you 're always preach-
ing economy."
But I would n't be convinced. "Pooh I You 're only
saying that, so that I won't think you 're sacrificing your-
self for me. Do you know anything about the Roque-
martines?"
"A little."
"Good gracious, I hope you 've never met them?"
"I believe I lunched here with them once three years
ago, with a motoring friend of theirs."
He stated this fact so quietly, that, if I had'n't begun
to know him and his ways, I might have supposed him
indifferent to the situation; but — I can hardly say why
— I did n't suppose it. I supposed just the contrary; and
I respected him, and his calmness, twenty times more than
before, if that were possible. Besides, I would have loved
him twenty times more, only that was impossible. How
much stronger and better he was than I — I, who blurted
out my every feeling ! I, a stranger, felt the position almost
too hateful for endurance, simply because it was ruffling
to my vanity. He, an acquaintance of these people, who
had been their guest, resigned himself to herding with their
servants, because — yes T knew it! — because he would
not let me bear annoya ; alone.
"You can't, you shan't stop in the house!" I gasped.
"Leave me and the luggage. Drive the car to the nearest
village."
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"I don't ivant to leave you. Can't you underetai
that?" he said. "I 'm not sacrificing myself."
We were at the door. We had been heard. If I ht
suddenly been endowed with the eloquence of Demo
thenes, the gift would have come too late. The door m
thrown open, not by servants, but by a merry, curioi
crowd of ladies and gentlemen, anxious to s*»e the arrivi
of the belated, no doubt much talked of, automobil
Light streamed out from a great hall, which seemed, i
first glance, to be half full of people in evening dress, glr
and young men, gay and laughing. Everybody was talkin
at the same time, chattering both English and Frencl
nobody listening to anybody else, all intent on having
glimpse of the car. I believe they were disappointed n(
to see it battered by some accident; sensations are so dea
to the hearts of idle ones.
Sir Samuel Tumour came out, with two youi.g men am
a couple of girls, while Lady Tumour, af \ of the cole
remained on the threshold in a group of other womei
among whom she was violently conspicuous by the blazinj
of her jewels. The others were all in dinner dress, witl
very few jewels. She had attempted to u;,jne for he
blouse and short skirt by putting on all her diamonds anc
a rope or two of pearls. Poor woman! I knew he
capable of much. I har? not supposed her capable of this
Instinct told me that one of the young men with Sii
Samuel was the Marquis de Roquemartine, and I tremblec
with physical dread, as if under a lifted lash, of his greeting
to Jack. But the pince-nez over prominent, near-sightec
eyes, gave me hope that my chauffeur might be spared ar
unpleasant ordeal. Joy! the Marquis did not appear tc
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THE Mvy/OR MAID 279
recognize him, and neither did the Marquise, if she were
one of the young women who had run out to the car.
Maybe, if he could escape recognition now, he might escape
altogether. Once swept away among the flotsam and
jetsam below stairs, he would be both out of sight and out
of mind. I did not care about myself now, only for him,
and I was beginning to cheer up a little, when I noticed
that the other young man was gazing at the chauffeur very
intently.
His flushed face, and small fair moustache, his
light eyes and hair, looked as English as the Marquis'
short, pointed chestnut beard and sleek hair en brosae,
looked French. " Bertie 1" I said to myself, flashing a
glance at him from under my veil.
Bertie, if Bertie it was, did not speak. He simply stared,
mechanically pulling an end of his tiny moustache, while
Sir Samuel talked. But he was so much interested in his
stepfather's chauffeur that when the really very pretty girl
near him spoke, over his shoulder, he did not hear.
"Well, we began to think you 'd tumbled over a preci-
pice!" exclaimed Sir Samuel, with the jovial loudness that
comes to men of 'ns age from good champagne or the rich
red wines of Soutnem France.
Jack explained. The fair-haired young man let him
finish in peace, and then said, slowly, "Is n't your name
Dane?"
"It is," replied my brother.
"Thought I knew your face," went on the other. "So
you 've taken to chauffeuring as a last resort — what?"
He was intended by Providence to be good looking, but
so snobbish was his expression as he spoke, so cruelly
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sarcastic his voice, that he became hideous in my eye:
A bleached skull grinning over a tall collar could nc
have seemed more repulsive than the p nk, healthy feature
of that young man with his single eye-glass and his sneer.
Jack paid no more attention than if he had not heaid, bu
the slight stiffening of his face and raising of his eyebrow
as he turned to Sir Samuel, made him look supreme!
proud and distinguished, incomparably more a gentlemai
in his dusty leather livery, than Bertie in his well-cu
evening clothes.
" I called at the railway station, and the luggage will b
here before eight to-morrow morning," he said, quietly.
"All right, all right," replied Sir Samuel, slow to undei
stand what was going on, but uncomfortable between th
two young men. " I did n't know that you were acquainte(
with my stepson, Dane."
"It was scarcely an acquaintance, sir," said the chaui
feur. "And I wasn't aware that Mr. Stokes was you
stepson."
" If you had been, you jolly well would n't have taken tb
engagement — what?" remarked Bertie, with a hatefu
laugh.
This time Jack condescended to look at him; from th(
head down, from the feet up. "Really," he said, afte
an instant's reflection, "it would n't have been fair to Si
Samuel to feel a prejudice on account of the relationship
If one of the servants would kindly show me thi
garage "
CHAPTER XXVI
IF IT had n't been for the hope of seeing Jack again,
I should have said that I wanted nothing to eat,
when I was asked; but I thought that he might
come to the servants* dining-room, if only because he
would expect to find me there; and I was right: he came.
"What an imbroglio!" I whispered, as he joined me
at the table, where hot soup and cold chicken were set
forth.
"Not at all," said he, cheerfully. "Things are better
for me than I thought. Roquemartine did n't recognize
me, I 'm sure, for if he had, he would have said so. He
is n't a snob. But I rather hoped he would have forgotten.
I came as a stranger, brought by a friend of hb and mine,
was here only for a meal (we were motoring then, too)
—and it 's three years ago."
"But the marquise?"
"She 's a bran new one. I fancied I 'd heard that the
wife died. This one has the air of a bride, and I should
say she 's an American."
"Yes. She is. The maid who showed me my room
told me. The other girl who came out of doors, is her
sister. They 're fearfully rich, it seems, and that young
brute wants to marry her."
"Thank you for the descriptive adjective, my little
partizan, but you 're troubling yourself for me more than
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you need. I don't mind, really. It 's all in a life-tim<
and I knew when I went in for 'hia business, that I shoul
have to take the rough with the smooth. I was dow
on my luck, and glad to get anything. What I have gc
is honest, and something that I know I can do well -
something I en joy, too; and I 'm not going to let a vulga
young snob like that make me ashamed of myself, whei
I 've nothing to be ashamed of."
"You ought to be proud of yourself, not ashamed I'
I cried to him, trying to keep my eyes cold.
"Heaven knows there 's little enough to be proud oJ
You 'd see that, if I bored you with my history — an(
perhaps I will some day. But anyhow, I 've nothinj
which I need to hide."
" As if I did n't know thati But Bertie hates >ou."
"I don't much blame him for that. In a way, tb
position in which we stand to each other is a kin(
of poetical justice. I don't blame myself, either, for
always did loathe a cad and Stokes is a cad par excellence
He visited, more or less on suffrance, at two or thre
houses where I used to go a good deal, in my palmy days
How he got asked, originally, I don't exactly know, fo
the people were n't a bit his sort; but money does a lo
for a man in these days; and once in, he was n't easy t(
get rid of. He had a crawling way with any one h(
hoped to squeeze any advantage out of - — "
"I suppose he crawled to you then," I broke in.
"He did try it on, a bit, because I knew people he
wanted to know; but it did n't work. I rather put mysell
out to be rude to him, for I resented a fellow like that
worming himself into places where he had no earthly
THE MOTOR MAID
right to be — no right of brains, or heart, or breeding. I
must admit, now I think of it, that he has several scores
to wipe off; and judging from the way he begins, he
will wipe hard. Let him I"
"No, no," I protested. "You must n't let him. It 's
too much. You will have to tell Sir Samuel that he must
find a new chauffeur at once. It hurts me like a blow
to think of such a creature humiliating you. I could n't
see it done."
He looked at me very kindly, with quite all a brother's
tenderness. "My dear little pal," he said, "you won't
have to see it."
"You mean— you will go?" Of course, I wanted
him to take my advice, or I would n't have offered it, yet
it gave me a heartache to think he was ready to take it
so easily.
"I mean that I 'm not the man to let myself be humili-
ated by a Bertie Stokes. Possibly he may persuade his
stepfather to sack me, but I don't think he '11 succeed
b doing that, even if he tries. Sir Samuel, I suppose,
has given him every thing he has; sent him to Oxford
(I know he was there, and scraped through by the skin
of his teeth), and allows him thousands enough to mix
\^ith a set where he does n't belong; but though the old
boy is weak in some ways, he has a strong sense of justice,
and where he likes he is loyal. I think he does like me,
and I don't believe he 'd discharge me to please his step-
son. Not only that, I should be surprised if the promising
Bertie wanted me discharged. It would be more in his
line to want me kept on, so that he might take it out
of me."
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I ihuddered; but Jack smiled, show! .g his white teel
aknost merrily. "You may see some fun," he said, "bi
it shan't be death to the frogs; not so bad as that. An
I shall have you to be kind to me."
"Kind to you!" I echoed, rather tremulously. (1
he only knew how kind I should like to be!) "Yes,
will be kind. But I can't do anything to make up for wb{
you '11 have to bear. You had better go."
"Perhaps I would, if I cou?d take you away with hm
but that can't be. And, no, even in that case, I shoul
prefer to stick it out. I should n't like to let that youn
bounder drive me from a place, whether I wanted to g
or not. And do you think I would clear out, and leav
him to worry you ? "
"Ht can't," I said.
"I wish I -.-re sure of that. When the beast see
you without your veil — oh, hang it, you mustn't Ic
him come near you, you know."
"He is n't likely to take the slightest notice of his step
father's wife 's maid," said I, "especially as he 's dyinj
to marry the American heiress here."
"Anyhow, be careful."
"I shan't look at him if I can help it. And we shal
be gone before long. I believe the Tumours* invitation
which their Bertie was bribed to ask for, is only for tw(
or three days. How you must have been feeling wlti
you were told to drive here! But you showed nothing."
"I had a qualm or two when I was sure of the place
but then it was over. It 's far worse for you than for me
And I told you I 've been learning from you a lesson oi
cheerfulness. I was merely a Stoic before."
THE MOTOR MAID
"It '• nothing for me, comparatively," I said, and by
this time, I was quite sincere; but I did n't know then
what the next twenty-four hours were to bring.
We were not left alone for long, but in ten minutes
we had had our talk out, while we played at eating the
meal we had looked forward to with eagerness before our
appetites were crowded into the background. A fat
tons ckef flitted about; maids and valets glanced in;
nevertheless, we found time for a heart-warming hand
pressure before we parted for the night. Altogether, I
had not had more than fifteen minutes in the dining-
room; yet when I left I felt a hundred times braver and
more cheerful. •
Already I had been to my mistress's quarters. The maid
who took charge of me on my arrivaUhowed me that room
betore she showed me min. , and explained the way from
one to the other. My "bump of locality" was tested,
however, in getting back to her ladyship's part of the
house, for the castle has its intricacies.
The word "chAteau," in France, covers a multitude of
comforti Me, unpretentious family mansions, as I had not
to ^nd out now, for the first time; and the dwelling of the
Roquemartines, though a fine old house of the seventeenth
century, is no more imposing, under its high, slate roof,
than many another. It is Lady Tumour's first experience,
though, as a visitor in the "mansions of the great," and
when I had been briskly unpacking for half an hour or so,
she came in, somewhat subdued by her new emotions.
I think that she was rather glad to see a familiar face, to
have someone to talk to of whom she did not feel in awe,
with whom she need not be afraid of making some
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mistake; and she seemed quite human to me, for th(
first time.
Never had I seen her in such an expansive mood, noi
even when she gave me the blouse. Instead of the cross
words I had braced myself to expect, she was almost
friendly. She had felt a fool, she said, not being able
to dress for dinner, but then no one else could toucli
her, for jewels; and did n't every one just stare, at the
table, though, of course, she had n't put on her tiara,
as that would n't have been suitable with a blouse
and short skirt I Sir Samuel's stepson had been quite
nasty and superior about the jewels, when he got at her,
afterward, and she believed would have been rude if
he 'd dared, but luckily he did n't know her well enough
for that; and he 'd better be careful how far he went,
or he 'd find things very different from what they 'd
been with him, since his mother married Sir Samuel.
As if men knew when women ought to wear their jewels,
and when not! But he was green with jealousy of the
things his stepfather had given her; wanted everything
himself.
She went on to describe the other members of the house
party, and mouthed their titles with delight, though she
had only her own maid to impress. Everyone had a
title, it seemed, except Bertie, and the American girl he
wanted to marry, Miss Nelson, a sister of the young
marquise. Some of the titles were very high ones, too.
There were princes and princesses, and dukes and duch-
esses all over the place, mostly French and Italian, though
one of the duchesses was American, like the marquise
and her sister.
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THE MOTOR MAID
287
"Not the Duchesse de Melun!" I exclaimed, before
I stopped to think.
"Yes, that's the name," said her ladyship, twisting
round to look up at me, as I wound her back hair in
curling-pins. "What do you know about her?"
How I wished that I knew nothing — and that I had n't
spoken!
The name had popped out, because the Duchesse de
Melun is the only American-bom duchess of my acquain-
tance, and because I was hoping very hard that the duchess
of the Ch&teau de Roquemartine might not be the Duchesse
de Melun. What bad luck that the Roquemartines had
selected that particular duchess for this particular house
party, when they must know plenty, and could just as
well have chosen another specimen!
"I have heard her name," I admitted, primly. And
so I had, too often. "A friend of mine was — was with
her, once."
"As her maid?"
"Not exactly."
"Another sort of servant, I suppose?"
As her ladyship stated this as a fact, rather than asked
it as a question, I ventured to refrain from answering.
Fortunately she did n't notice the omission, as her thoughts
had jumped to another subject. But mine were not so
readily displaced. They remained fastened to the
Duchesse de Melun; and while Lady Tumour talked, I
was wondering whether I could successfully contrive to
keep out of the duchess's way. She is quite intimate
with Cousin Catherine; and I told myself that she was
pretty sure already to have heard the truth about my
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disappearance. Or, if even with her friends, Cousin
Catherine clings to conventionalities, and pretends that
I 'm visiting somewhere by her consent, people are almost
certain to scent a mystery, for mysteries are popular.
"If that duchess woman sees me, she '11 write to Cousin
Catherine at once," I thought. "Or I wouldn't put it
past her to telegraph I "
("Put it past" is an expression of Cousin Catherine's
own, which I always disliked; but it came in handy now.)
I tried to console myself, though, by reflecting that, if
I were careful, I ought to be able to avoid the duchess.
The ways of great ladies and 'ittle maids Ue far apart in
grand houses and
"There is going to be a servants' ball to-morrow night,"
announced Lady Tumour, while my thoughts struggled
out of the slough of despond. "And I want you to be the
best dressed one there, for my credit. We 're all going to
look on, and some of the young gentlemen may dance.
The marquise and Miss Nelson say they mean to, too, but
I should think they are joking. / may not be a French
princess nor yet a marquise, but I am an English lady,
and I must say I should n't care to dance with my cook,
or my chauffeur."
Her chauflFeur would be at one with her there I But I
could think of nothing save myself in this crisis. "Oh,
miladi, I can't go to a servants' ball ! " I exclaimed.
She bridled. "Why not, I should like to know? Do
you consider yourself above it?"
"It isn't that," I faltered. (And it wasn't; it was
that duchess!) "But — but " I searched for an
excuse. "I haven't anything to wear."
THE MOTOR MAID 289
"I will see to that," said my mistress, with relentless
generosity. " I intend to give you a dress, and as you have
next to nothing to do to-morrow, you can alter it in time.
If you had any gratitude in you, Elise, you 'd be out of
yourself with joy at the idea."
"Oh, I am out of myself, miladi," I moaned.
"Well, you might say 'Thank your ladyship,' then."
I said it.
"When you have unpacked the big luggage in the
mommg, I will give you the dress. I have decided on it
already. Sir Samuel doesn't Uke it on me, so I don't
mind parting with it; but it 's very handsome, and cost me
a great deal of money when I was getting my trousseau. It
is scarlet satin trimmed with green beetle-wing passemen-
terie, and gold fringe."
My one comfort, as I gasped out spasmodic thanks, was
this: I would look such a vulgar horror in the scarlet satin
trimmed with green beetl>wings and gold fringe, that the
Duchesse de Melun might fail to recognize Lys d'Angely.
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CHAPTER XXVII
I DUSTED and shook out every ceil in my brain
during the night, in the hope of finding any inspira
tion which might save me from tlie servants' ball
but I could think of nothing, except that I might sudden!;
come down with a contagious disease. The objection t(
this scheme was that a doctor would no doubt be sen
for, and would read my secret in my lack of temperature
When mo- *ng came, I was sullenly resigned to th(
worst. " Kismet 1" said I, as I unfolded her ladyship':
dresses, and was blinded by the glare of the scarlei
satin.
"Try it on," commanded my mistress. "I want to gel
an idea how you will look."
Naturally, the red thing was a Directoire thing; and
putting it on over my snug little black frock, I was Uke a
cricket crawling into an empty lobster-shell. But to my
surprise and annoyance, the lobster-shell was actually
becoming to the cricket.
I did n't want to look nice and be a credit to Lady Tu>
nour. I wanted to look a fright, and did n't care if I were
a disgrace to her. But the startling scarlet satin vras
Liberty satin, and therefore had a sheen, and a soft way
of folding that redeemed it somewhat. Its bright poppy
colour, its emerald beetle-wings shading to gold, and its
glittering fringes that waved like a wheat-field stirred by
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THE MOTOR MAID 291
a breeze, all gave a bizarre sort of "value," as artists say,
to my pale yellow hair and dark eyes. I could n't help
seeing that the dreadful dress made my skin pearly
white; and I was afraid that, when I had altered the
thing, instead of locking like a frump, I should only present
the appearance of a rather fast little actress. I should be
looked at in my scarlet abomination. People would stare,
and smile. The Duchesse de Melun would say to the
Marquise de Roquemartine : " Who is that young person ?
She looks exactly like someone I know — that little Lys
d'Angely the millionaire-man,Charretier, is so silly about."
"You see, you can alter it very easily," said Lady
Tumour.
"Yes, miladi."
"Have you got any dancing slippers?"
"No — that is — I don't know "
"Don't be stupid. I will give you ten francs to buy
yourself a pair of red stockings and red slippers to match.
The stockings need n't be silk. They won't show much.
Dane can take you in the car to Clermont-Ferrand this
afternoon. I want you to be all right, from head to feet —
different from any of the other maids."
I did n't doubt that I would be different — very different.
Tap, tap, a knock at the door.
"Ontray!" cried her ladyship.
The door opened. Mr. Herbert Stokes stood on the
threshold.
"I say, Lady T " be began, when he saw the
scarlet vision, and stopped.
"What is it?" inquired the wife of his stepfather —
rather a complicated relation.
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"I — er — wanted " drawled Bertie. "But ii
does n't matter. Another time."
"You need n't mind her," said Lady Tumour, with a
nod toward me. "It 's only my maid. I 'm giving her
a dress for the servants' ball to-night."
Bertie gave vent to the ghost of a whistle, below his
breath. He looked at me, twisting the end of his small fair
moustache, as he had looked at j»ok Dane last night; and
though his expression was diflFerent, I liked it no better.
"Thought it was a new guest," said he.
"I suppose you did n't take her for a lady, did you?"
my mistress was curious to know. "You pride yourself
on your discrimination, your stepfather says."
"There 's nothing the matter with my discrimination,"
replied the young man, smiUng. But his smile was not
for her ladyship. It was for me; and it was meant to be
a piquant little secret between us two.
How well I remembered asking the chauflFeur, "Covld
you know a Bertie ? " And how he answered that he had
known one, and consequently didn't want to know
another. Here was the same Bertie; and now that I too
knew him, I thought I would prefer to know another,
rather than know more of him. Yet he was good-looking,
almost handsome. He had short, curly light hair, eyes as
blue as turquoises, seen by dayUght, full red lips under
the little moustache, a white fortL.ad, a dimple in the
chin, and a very good figure. He had also an educated,
perhaps too well educated, voice, which tried to advertise
that it had been made at Oxford; and he had hands as
careiully kept as a pretty woman's, with manicured,
filbert-shaped nails.
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THE MOTOR MAID aiKi
"You 're making her jolly smart," he went on. "She 11
do you credit."
" I want she should," retorted her ladyship, gratified
and ungrammatical.
"She must give me a dance — what ?" condescended the
gilded youth. " Does she speak English ? "
"Yes. So you'd better be careful what you say
before her."
Bertie telegraphed another smile to me. I looked at the
faded damask curtains; at the mantelpiece with its gilded
clock and two side-pieces, Louis Seize at his worst, con-
sidered good enough for a bedroom; at the drapings of
the enormous bed; at the portifere covering the door of
Sir Samuel's dressing-room; at the kaleidoscopic claret-
and-blue figures on the carpet; in fact, at everything within
reach of my eyes except Mr. Herbert Stokes.
"I've nothing to say that she can't hear," said he,
virtuously. "I only wanted to know if you 'd like to see
the gardens? The marquise sent me to ask. Several
people who have n't been here before are goin'. It *s a
lot warmer this momin', so you won't freeze."
Lady Tumour said that she would go, and ordered me to
find her hat and coat. As I turned to get them, Bertie
smiled at me again, and threw me a last glance as he
followed my mistress out of the room.
I begin to be afraid there is an innate vanity in me
which nothing can thoroughly eradicate without tearing
me up by the roots; for when I was ready to alter that red
dress, instead of trying to make it look as ridiculous as
possible, something forced me to do my best, to study
fitness and becomingness. I do hope this is self-respect
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and not vanity; but to hope that is, I fear, like bclievinj
in a thing which you know is n't true.
I worked all the morning at ensmalling the gown (if on<
can enlarge, why can't one ensmall ?) and by luncheon timt
it was finished. I had seen Jack at breakfast, but had nc
chance for a word with him alone, although he succeeded
valiantly in keeping other chauffeurs, and valets, froir
making my acquaintance. As I stopped only long enough
for a cup of coffee and a roll, I did n't give him too much
trouble; but at luncheon it was different. Everyone was
chattering about the ball in the evening (a privilege
promised, it seemed, as a reward for hard work on the
occasion of a real ball above stairs), and house servants
and visitors alike were all so gay and good-natured that it
would have been stupid to snub them. Jack saw this, and
though he protected me as well as he could in an unob-
trusive way, he put out no bristles.
The general excitement was contagious, and if it had n't
been for the panic I was in about the duchess, I should have
thrown myself wholly into the spirit of the hive, buzzing
Uke the busiest bee in it. Even as it was, I could n't help
entering into the fun of the thing, for it was fun in its queer
way. Something Uke being on the stage of a third-rate
theatre in the midst of a farce, where the actors mistake
you for one of themselves, calling upon you to play your
part, while you alone know that you are a leading member
of the Com^e Fran9aise, just dropped in at this funny
place to look on.
Here, the stage was on a much grander scale, and the
play more amusing than in the couriers* dining-rooms at
the hotels where I had been. At the hotels, the maids
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THE MOTOR MAID 205
and valets scarcely knew each other. Some were in a
hurry, others were tired or in a bad humour. Here the
Uttle company had been together for davs. Meals were a
relaxation, a time for flirtation and gossfp about their own
and each other's masters and mistresses. Each servant
felt the liveliest interest in the "Monsieur" or "Madame"
of his or her neighbour; and the stories that were
exchanged, the criticisms that were made, would have
caused the hair of those messieurs and those mesdames
to curl.
If I was openly approved by the gentlemen's gentlemen,
Mr. Jack Dane had the undisguised admiration of the
Udies ladies; and he received their advances with tact
Dances for the evening were asked for and promised right
and left, among the assemblage, always dependent upon
summons from Above. It was agreed that, if a Monsieur
or Madame wished to dance with you, no previous
engagement was to stand, for all the castles and big houses
from far and near would be emptied in honour of the ball
from drawing-rooms to servants' halls, and quality was to
mingle with quantity, as on similar occasions in England
whence -the chef explained - came the fashion. It
was a feature of I'entente cordiale, and the same agreeable
understanding was to level all barriers, for the night
between high and low. '
Some of the visitors' femmes de chambres were pretty
coquettish creatures, and I was delighted to find that they
were all called by their mistresses' titles. The maid of
i^ybete noire was "Duchesse"; she who pertained to our
hostess was "Marquise," and I blossomed into "Miladi."
Ihe girls were looking forward to rivalling their mistresses
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in ektc, and also in the admiration of the real princes ai
dukes and counts; that they would have an exclusi
right to the attentions of these gentlefen's understudi
also seemed to be expected.
After half an hour at table in the servants' hall, there wi
nothing left for me to find out about the owners of tl
castle and their guests; but the principal interest of ever
one seemed to centre upon the affair between Mr. Herbe
Stokes and the heiress sister of Madame la Marquis
There were even bets among the valets as to how it was (
end, and Bertie's man, who looked as if he could spea
volumes if he would, was a person of importance.
All the men admired Miss Nelson extremely, but tl
women were divided in opinion. Her own maid, a bilioi
Frenchwoman, with a jealous eye, said that the America
miss was une petite chatte, who was playing off Mr. Stok(
against the Due de Divonne, and it was a pity that tt
handsome young English monsieur could not be wame
of her unworthiness. The duke was not handsom(
and he was neither young nor rich, but — these American
were out for titles, just as titles were out for America
money. Why else had the marriage of Madame 1
Marquise, Miss Daisy's elder sister, made itself? Mis
Daisy liked Mr. Stokes, but he could not give her a title
The duke could — if he would. But would he ? She wa
rich, but there were others richer. People said that h
was wary. Yet he admired Miss Daisy, it was true, an(
if by her flirtation with Mr. Stokes she could pique hin
into a proposal, she would have her triumph.
This was only one of many dramas going on in th(
house, but it was the most interesting to me, as to others
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THE MOTOR MAID 297
and I determined to look with ail my might at the duke
and at pretty Miss Nelson, of whom I had only had a
gUmpse on arriving. If she were really nice, I did hope
that Bertie would n't get herl
My costume pressed as weightily on her ladyship's
mmd, as If I had been a favourite poodle about to be sent
all ribboned and clipped, to a dog show. She did not
foiget the slippers and stockings, and the chauffeur was
ordered to take me into Clermont-Ferrand to buy them
Fortunately she did n't know how much I looked forward
to the excursion I
At precisely three o'clock I walked out to the castle
garage, near the stables, and found Jack getting the car
ready; but I did not find him alone. The garage is a big
and splendid one. and not only were the three household
dragons m their stalls, but four or five strange beasts, pets
of visitors; and the finest of these (after our blue Aigle)
was the white Majestic of the Due de Divonne. That
gentleman, whom I recognized easily from a description
breathed into my ear by a countess's countess, at lunch-
eon, was in the garage when I arrived, showing off his
automobile to Miss Nelson. The ducal chauffeur lurked
m the background, duster in hand, and Mr. Herbert Stokes
occupied as large a space as possible in the foreground.
Nobody deigned to take any open notice of me, though
Bertie threw me a stealthy smile of recognition, carefully
screened from Miss Nelson, but as the Aigle was swallow-
ing a last refreshing draught of petrol, I had time to observe
Yes, though Miss Daisy Nelson looked even prettier
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than I thought her last night, I could quite believe tY
bilious maid's statement that she was um petite ehatl
Her green-gray eyes, very effectiw under thick massc) (
auburn hair, were turned up at the outer comers in a fasc
Dating, sly little way; and her cupid-bow lips, which turne
down at their comers, were a bit redder than Nature
formula ordains. Nevertheless I could n't help liking hei
just as one likes a lovely, playful Persian kitten which ma
rub its adorable nose against your hand, or scratch wit
its naughty claws. And she was enjoying herself so mucl
the pretty, expensive-looking creature! As Pamela woul
Bay, it was evident that she was "having the time of he
life," revelling in the admiration and rivalry of the tw
men; delighted with her own power over them, and he
importance as a beauty and an heiress, the only unmarrie
girl in the house party; amusing herself by making on
man miserable and the other happy, sending them up ani
down on a mental sea-saw, by turns.
As for the little Due de Divonne, his profile is of th
iioman Emperor order, and his eyes like the last coal
in a dying fire. I said to myself that, if Miss Nelsoi
should become a duchess, she would have to pay for sonii
of her girlish antics in pre-duchess days. Still, I decide<
that if I had to choose, it would be the duke before Bertie
The girl kept both her men busy, and after the firs
glance Bertie ignored my existence: but the Duke, firec
by a moment's neglect, flamed out with an inspiration
He "dared" Miss Nelson to take a lesson from him ir
driving his car, with no other chaperon than the chauf-
feur. "All right, I will," said she, "and I bet you I '11 be
an expert after one trial.'
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THE MOTOR MAID
"What do you bet ?" asked the Duke.
She smiled flirtatiously in answer and BerUe stood foiw
torn, his nice pink complexion turning an ugly salmon
cdour. In a minute the white car was off, Miss Nelson
bes.de the duke, the chauffeur like a small nut in a l.»e
shell, lolhng m the tonneau. Bertie turned to us, and
having looked kindly at me, sharply demanded of Jack
where he was going.
"Mademoiselle has an errand."
"Ahl then I '11 drive Mademoiselle. Wbh I had a
tenner for every time I 've driven an Aiglel You can sit
inside, in case there 's work to do."
My eyes opened widely, but I said nothing. I glanced
at Jack, and saw his face harden.
"I have been told to drive the car, and it is my duty to
dnve It unless I receive different orders," said he.
''I 'm giving you different ordere," said Bertie.
I take my orders only from the owner of the car."
You re beastly impertinent," snapped Bertie, "and
1 11 report you to Sir Samuel."
haiidt ^°" *'^°^'" "*"™^ ^'^^' *"™*"^ *^^ '^^''«-
"Why don't you say 'sir' when you speak to me ? You
don t seem to have trained into chauffeur mannera yet."
If I were your chauffeur, you would have the
nght to criticize. As I 'm not, and never will be,
you have nt. Mademoiselle, the car 's i^ady. Will you
get m f •'
I jumped into my usual place, beside the driver's seat.
Ah, you sit by the chauffeur, do you?" said Bertie.
1 don t wonder he wants to keep his job."
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THE MOTOR MAID
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For an instant I was afraid that Jack would strike him.
My blood rushed to my head, and I half rose from tb
seat, with a choked, warning whisper of "Jack!"
It was the first time I 'd called him that, except to mysel;
and I saw him give the faintest start. Hf looked at i\,
other man, and then, though Bertie stepp< »1 quickly loj
ward as if to open the car door and jump in, he sprang i
his place, and we were off.
" He means mischief," I said, when I felt able to speak.
"So do I, if he does," answered Jack.
"I wish you *d do me a favour," I went on. "Keei
away from that awful ball to-night."
"What I With you there? I know my busines
better."
I could n't help laughing. "Your present business,
believe," said I, " is that of a chauffeur."
" With extra duty as watch-dog."
*' I can't bear to have you see me in the ridiculous get-U]
Lady Tumour is making me wear, that *s the selfish part o
my reason — and — and it will be so horrid for you, ii
every way."
" I 'm callous to anything they can do now, except oik
thing."
"What?"
"If you don't know already, I mean where you'n
concerned."
"You 're very kind to me."
"Kind? Yes, I am very 'kind.' A man has to be
abnormally 'kind' to want to look after a girl like you."
"How bitterly you speak!" I exclaimed, hardly unde^
standing him.
THE MOTOR MAID 301
"I feel bitter so.;ietimes. Do you wonder? But for
heaven's sake, don't let 's talk of me. Let 's talk of some-
thing pleasant. Would you care to do a little sight-seeing
in Clermont-Ferrand, if your shopping does n't take us
too long?"
I assured him that it would not take ten minutes; and
It did n't take more. I saved a franc on the transaction,
too, which would console her ladyship if I got back a few
minutes late; and with that thought in my mind I
abandoned myself to the joy of the expedition. We
went to the Petrifying Fountain, and inspected its strange
menagene of stone animals; we made a dash into the
Cathedral where St. Louis was married, and looked at the
beautiful thirteenth-century glass in the windows, and the
strange frescoes; we rushed in and out of Notre Dame du
Port, stopping on the way in the Pl(u:e where the first
Crusade was proclaimed, and to gaze at the house and
statue of Pascal. Jack would squander some of his
extremely hard earned money on a box of the burnt
almonds for which Clermont-Ferrand is celebrated; and
when we had seen everything I dared stop to see, he ran
the car to Montferrand, to show me some ancient and
wonderful houses, famous all over France. Eventually he
threatened to spin me out to Royat, but I pleaded the
certainty that Lady Tumour would wish to change into
her smartest tea-gown for "feef oclocky " and that I must
be there to assist at the ceremony.
So we turned castleward, with all the speed the law
allows, if not a little more; and I arrived with a pair of red
stockings, cheap high-heeled slippers, a franc in change,
and a queer presentiment of dangerous things to happen.
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CHAPTER XXVni
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I
ALTHOUGH a good many neighbours were comino
Z>^ to the Ch&teau de Roquemartine to look on at
^ -^ the servants' ball, they were all to drive or motoi
over in their ordinary dinner dress: it was only the
servants themselves who were to "make toilettes."
Lady Tumour, however, who regretted having missed
the smart ball for the great world, given a few nights before,
determined that people should be forced to appreciate
.her wealth and position; and the wardrobe of Solomon
In all his glory could hardly have produced anything to
exceed her gold tissue, diamante.
When I had squeezed, and poked, and pushed her into
it, and was bejewelling her. Sir Samu^' - tme, as usual,
to have his white cravat tied by me. Bt . d, appeared,
dressed for dinner, and watched me with .^m amusement
as I performed my evening duty for his stepfather.
"Pretty gorgeous, are n't you?" he remarked to Lady
Tumour; but she was flattered rather than annoyed by
the criticism, and sailed away good-natured, leaving me
to gather up the few jewels of her collection which she
had discarded. Lately I had been - 'sted with her
treasures, and felt the responsibility disagreeably, espe-
cially as my mistress — when she remf^* -'red it —
counted everything ostentatiously over, after relieving
me of my cluuge.
802
THE MOTOR MAID 303
To-night I had just begun picking up the brooches,
bracelets, diamond stars, coronets and bursting suns
which illuminated the dressing-table firmament, when
Bertie walked in again, through the door that he had
left ajar.
"I came back because my necktie's a failure," said he.
"My man must be in love, I should think. Probably
with you I Anyhow, something's the matter; his fingers
are all thumbs. But you turned out my old governor
rippin'ly. You '11 do me, won't you ?"
As he spoke, he untied his cravat, and produced
another.
"I 'm sorry," I said. "I don't know how to do 'hat
kind of tie."
"What — what?" he stared. "It 's just the same as
the governor's — only a little better. Come along,
there 's a dear." He had pushed the door to; now he
shut it.
I walked to the other end of the room, and began fold-
ing a blouse. "You'd better give your valet another
trial," I said. "I 'm not a valet. I 'm Lady Tumour's
maid."
"She 's in luck to get you."
"I 'm engaged to wait upon her."
" You are stiff 1 You do the governor's tie."
"Sir Samuel 's very kind to me."
"Well, I'll be kind, too. I'd like nothing better.
I '11 be a lot kinder than he 'd dare to be. I say, I 've
got a present for you — something rippin', that you '11
like. You can wear it at the ball to-night, but you 'd
better not tell anyone who gave it to you — what ? You
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THE MOTOR MAID
shall have it for tyin' my necktie. Now, don't you call
that 'kind'?"
I stopped folding the blouse, and increased my height
by at least an inch. " No,' I said, " I call it impertinent,
and I shall be obliged if you will leave Lady Tumour's
room. That 's the only thing you can do for me."
"By Jove!" said Bertie. "What theatre were you at
before you took to lady's maidin'?"
To this I deigned no answer.
"Anyhow, you 're a rippin' Httle actress."
Silence.
"And a pretty girl. As pretty as they make 'em."
I invented a new kind of sigh, a cross between a snarl
and a moan.
"Tell me, what's the mystery? There is a mystery
about you, you know. Not a bit of good tryin' to deceive
me. . . . You might as well own up. I can keep a
secret as well as the next one."
A tapping of my foot. A slamming of a wardrobe
door, which was able to squeak furiously without loss of
dignity.
"What were you before my lady took you on ? . .
Look here, if you don't answer, I shall begin to think
the secret 's got to do with those." And he pointed to
the dressing table, where the jewels still lay. He even
put out his hand and took up the bursting sun. (How
I sympathized with it for burstingi) "Worth somethm'
— what?"
"You can think whatever you like," I flashed at him,
"if only you '11 go out of this room."
"Pity your chauffeur isn't at hand for you to run
THE MOTOR MAID 305
to." Bertie half sneered, half laughed, for he was keeping
h.s hateful, teasmg good nature. "And by the way!
talkin of him, since you 're such a little prude, I '11 iust
warn you in a friendly way to look out for that chap.
You dont know his history - what ? I'm sure the
govci-nor does n't."
"S^r Samuel knows he can drive, and that he 's a genOe.
man, said I, with meaning emphasis.
''Well. I've warned you," replied Bertie, injured.
You m^y see which one of us is really your friend, before
you re out of this galley. But if you want to be a good
and happy little girl, you 'd best be nice to me. I shall
nnd out all about you, you know."
That was his exit speech; and the only way in which I
could adequately express my opinion of it was to bang the
door on his back.
The ball was in a huge vault of a room which had once
been a granary. The stone floor had been worn smooth
by many feet and several centuries, and the blank gr -.
walls were brightened with drapeiy of flags, yards of
coloured cotton, paper flowers and evergreens, arranged
with an effect which none save Latin hands could have
given. Dinner above and below stairs was early, and
before ten the guests began to assemble in the ballroom.
All the servant-worid had dined in ball costume, excepting
Jack and myself, and it was only at the last minute that the
cncket hopped upstairs A wriggled into its neatly
reduced lobster shell. ^
I had visions of my brother lurking gloomily yet obser-
vantly m obscure comers, ready at any moment for a
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sortie in my defence; but when I sneaked, sidled, and sli(
into the ballroom, making myself as small as possible tha
I might pass unobserved in spite of my sensational redness
I had a surprise. Near the door stood the chauffeur ii
evening dress, out-princing and out-duking every prina
and duke among the Marquise de Roquemartine's guests
And I, who had n't even known that Le possessed eveninf
clothes, could not have opened my eyes wider if my knighi
had appeared in full armour.
I had broken the news of the scarlet dress to him, never-
theless I saw it was a shock. To each one, the other was
a new person, as we stood and talked together. I said nol
a word about my scene with Bertie, for there was trouble
enough between the two already; but when Jack told me
that, if I were asked to dance by anyone objectionable, I
must say I was engaged to him, I knew which One loomed
largest and ugliest in his mind.
A glance round the big, bright room showed me many
strangers. All were servants, however, for the grand people
had not yet come down to play their little game of con-
descension. A band from Clermont-Ferrand was making
music, but the ball was to be opened by the marquise and
her guests, who were to honour their servants by dancing
the first dance with them. Each noble lady was to select a
cook, butler, footman, chauffeur, or groom, according to
her pleasure; and each noble lord was to lead out the
female worm which least displeased his eye.
Hardly had I time to dive deep into the wave of domesti-
city, when the great moment arrived, and a spray of aris-
tocracy sprinkled the top of that heavy wave, with the
dazzling sparkle of its jewels and its beauty. Really it
THE MOTOR MAID 307
was a pretty sight! I had to admire it; and in watching
the play of light and colour I forgot my private worries
until I saw Bertie bowing before me.
The marquise had just honoured her own butler. The
marquis was offering his arm to the housekeeper; the Due
de Divonne had led out Miss Nelson's bilious maid, appall-
ing in apple-green: Miss Nelson was returning the compli-
ment by giving her hand to his valet: why should not this
young gentleman dance with his step-mother-in-law's
maid?
There seemed no reason why not, except the maid's
disinclination; and sudden side-slip of the brain caused by
the glassy impudence in Mr. Stokes's eye so disturbed my
equihbrium that I forgot Jack's offer. He did not forget
however - it would hardly have been Jack, if he had -
but stepped forward to claim me as I began to stammer
some excuse.
^^ "Oh, come, that isn't playin' the game," said Bertie.
"We 're all dancin' with servants this turn. Go ask a
lady, Dane."
"I have asked a lady, and she has promised to dance
with me," said Jack. " Miss d'Angely "
" Oh, that 's the lady's name, is it ? I 'm glad to know,"
mumbled Bertie, as Jack whisked me away from under
his nose.
"By Jove, I oughtn't to have let that out, ought I?"
said Jack, remorseful. " The less he knows about you, the
better; and as Lady Tumour has no idea of pronunciation,
if It had n't been for my stupidity "
"Don't call it that," I stopped him, as we began to dance.
It does n't matter a bit — unless it should occur to the
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308 THE MOTOR MAID
Duchesae de Melun to ask him questions about me. And
I 'd rather not think about that possibility, or anything
else disagreeable, to spoil this heavenly waltz."
" You can dano a little, can't you ? " said Jack, in a tone
and with a look that made the words better than any
compliment any other man had ever paid me on my danc-
ing, though I 'd been likened to feathers, and vine-tendrib,
and various poetically airy things.
"You are n't so bad yourself, brother," I retorted, in the
same tone. "Our steps suit, don't they?"
He muttered something, which sounded like "Just a
little better than anything else on earth, that 's all"; but
of course it could n't really have been what my ears tried
to make my vanity believe.
VSTien we stopped — which we did n't do while there was
music to go on with — I was conscious that people were
looking at us, and nobody with more interest than the
Duchesse de Melun. I glanced hastily away before my
eye had quite caught hers; but no female thing needs to
give a whole eye to what is going on around her. I knew,
although my back was soon turned in her direction, that
the Duchesse de Melun was talking to Lady Tumour, and
I guessed the subject of the conversation. Thank good-
ness, my mistress's mind had never compassed more than
a misleading "Elise," and thank goodness, also, many of
the great folk were preparing to leave us humble ones to
ourselves, now that their condescension had been proved
in the first dance. Would the duchess go ? Yes — oh
joy I — she gets up from her seat. She moves toward
the door. Lady Tumour has risen too, but sits down
again, lured by the proximity of a princess. All will be
THE MOTOR MAID 309
well, perhaps! The duchess may n't think of catechizing
Bertie, now that my mistress has put her off the track. He,
with several other young men, evidently means to stop and
see the fun out. If only he would sit still, now, beside the
marquise I But no. Miss Nelson and the Due de
Divonne are going out together. Bertie must needs jump
up and dash across the room for a word with the girl.
Discouraged by some laughing answer flung over her
shoulder, he almost bumps against the duchess. Horror!
She speaks to him quite eagerly. She puts a question.
He replies. She bends her head near to him. They walk
slowly out of the room, talking, talking. All is up with
Lys d'Angelyl The next thing that Meddlesome Matty
of a duchess will do, is to wire Cousin Catherine Milvaine.
Crash! thunder — lightning — hail! — Monsieur Char-
retier on my track again.
I resolved, as I saw myself lying shattered at my own
feet, to pick up the bits and say nothing to Jack, lest he
should blame his own inadvertent dropping of my name
for all present and future mischief. Being a man, he can
see things only with his eyes; and as he happened to be
looking at me, he missed the pantomime at the other end
of the room. I was looking at him too, but of course that
did n't prevent me from seeing other things; and while I
was chatting with him, and wondering how long it might
be before the thunderbolt (Monsieur Charretier) should
fall, I received another invitation to dance. This time
it was from a delightful old boy who looked sixty and
felt twenty-one.
He was ruddy-brown, with tight gray curb on hb head.
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310 THE MOTOR MAID
and deep dimples in his cheeks. If anyone had told nu
that he was not an English admiral I should have knowr
It was a fib.
"I hope you are n't engaged for thb next waltz?" said
he. "I should like very much to have it with you." And
he spoke as nicely as he would to a young girl of his own
world, although he must have heard from someone that I
was a lady's maid.
I glanced at Jack, but evidently he approved of admirab
as partners for his sister. He kept himself in the back-
ground, smiling benevolently, and I skipped away with my
brown old sailor, as the music for the dance began
"Heard you spoke English." said he. encircling my
Directoire waist with the arm of a sea-going Hercules,
otherwise I should n't have had the courage to come up
and speak to you."
I laughed. " A Dreadnought afraid of a fishing^mack ! "
My word, if you were a fishin'-smack. my little friend
you would n't lack for fish to catch." chuckled the old
gentleman, who was waltzing like an elderly angel— as
all sailors do. Now. if Bertie had said what he said I
should have been offended, but coming from the admiral
It cheered me up.
"You are an admiral, are n't you ?" I was bold enough
to ask. ®
"Who told you that?" he wanted to know.
"My eyes," said I.
T '7^^^ '"* *'"^^* °"^''" ^^ ^^°'^^' "But I suppose
I do look an old sea^og-what? A regular old salt-
water dog. But by George, it 's hot water I We got into
to-night. D' ye see that stout lady we 're just passin ' ?-
THE MOTOR MAID 311
the one in the red wig and yellow frock covered with paste
or diamonds ? " "^
(If she could have heard the description! It was Udy
Tumour. ,n her gold tissue, her Bond Street jewellery shop,
and. my charge, her beautifully undulated, copper-Untwl
transformation.)
"Yes, I see her." I said faintly, as we waltzed past; and
I wondered why she was glaring.
"I suppose you did n't notice me doin» the first dance
with her? Well. I asked her because they said we 'd all
got to invite servants to begin with, and as the best were
snapped up before I got a chance, I walked over to her
like a man. Give you my word, where aU are dressed like
duchesses, I took her for a cook."
I laughed so much that I shook my feet out of time with
the music.
"Did you treat her like a cook, too ? " I gurgled. "Ask
her to give you her favourite recipe for soup ?"
"Heaven forbid, no. I treated her like a countess.
One would a cook, you know. It was afterward I got
into the hot water. I popped her down in a seat when
we d scrambled through a turn or two of the dance, and
that was all right; but instead of stoppin' where she was
put, she must have stood up with some other poor chap
when my back was turned, and been plamped down
somewhere else. Anyhow. I danced the end of the waltz
with the Marquise de Roquemartine. when she 'd finished
dom the polite to the butler, and when we sat down to
breathe at last, for the sake of somethin' to say I asked if
the fat lady in yellow was her own cook, or a visitor's cook.
Anyhow. I was certain of the cook: fancied myself on
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THE MOTOR MAID
spottin' a cook anywhere. Well, the marquise giggled
•Take care!' and nearly had a fit. And if there was n't
my late partner close to my shoulder. 'That's Lady
Tumour, one of my guests,' said the marquise. Little
witch, she looked more pleased than shocked ; but 'pon my
honour, you could have knocked me down with a feather.
I hope the good lady did n't hear, but my friends tell me I
talk as if I were yellin' through a megaphone, so I'm
afnud she got the news."
"What did you do?" I gasped.
"Do? I jumped up as if I 'd been shot, and trotted
over to ask you to dance. But I expect it will get about."
Now I knew why Lady Tumour had glared. Poor
woman I I was really sorry for her — on this, her happy
night I
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CHAPTER XXIX
T NEVER rains, but it pours, after dry weather,"
says Pamela de Nesle. And so it was for the
Tumour family. They had had their run of
luck, and everything determinedly went wrong for them
that night.
For her ladyship, there was the dreadful douche of the
admiral's mistake, and the Marquise de Roquemartine's
coming to hear of it. (Wicked little witch, I 'm sure she
could n't resist telling the story to everyone!) For Bertie,
the blow of an announcement, before the ball was over,
that Miss Nelson was going to marry the Due de Divonne
(she went out of the room to get engaged to him). For
Sir Samuel, a telegram from his London solicitors advising
him to hurry home and straighten out some annoying
business tangle.
After all, however, I doubt that the telegram ought to be
classed among disasters, as it gave the family a good excuse
to escape without delay from the chAteau which they had
so much wished to enter.
Lady Tumour had hysterics in her bedroom, having
retired early on account of a "headache." She pretended
that her rage was caused by a rent in her golden train,
made by "that clumsy Admiral Gray who came over with
the r rasers, and had the impudence to almost force me to
dance with him — gouty old horror 1 " But I know it was
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the rent in her vanity, not her dress, which made her gurj^le,
and wail, and choke, until frightened Sir Samuel patted
her on the back, and she stopped short, to scold him.
Bertie came in, ostensibly to learn his father's plans,
but really, I surmised, to suggest some of his own; and
Lady Tumour relieved her feelings by stirring up evil ones
in him. "So sure you were going to get the girll Why,
you wrote your stepfather the other day, you were practi>
cally engaged," she sneered, delighted that she was not the
only one who had suffered humiliations at the castle.
" If she had n't seen you, I believe it would have been all
right," growled Bertie, vicious as a chained dog who has
lost his bone. And then Lady Tumour had hysterics all
over again, and Sir Samuel told Bertie that he was an
ungrateful young bmte. The three raged together, and I
could not go, because I had to hold sal-volatile under her
ladyship's nose. Lady Tumour said that the marquise
was no lidy, and for her part she was glad she was n't going
to have that cat of a sister in her family. She 'd leave the
beastly chattoe that night, if she could ; but anyhow, she 'd
go the first thing in the morning as ever was, so there I
People that let their visitors be insulted, and did nothing
but laugh! — She'd show them, if they ever came to Lon-
don, that she would, though she might n't be a marquise
herself, exactly. Not one of the lot should ever be invited
to her house, not if they were all married to Bertie. And
who was Bertie, anyhow ?
Sir Samuel said 'darling' to her, and quite different
words that began with "d" to his stepson; and Bertie,
seeing the error of his ways, apolo^z?d humbly. His
apologies were eventually accepted; and when he had
THE MOTOR MAID 315
intimated to her ladyship that she should be introduced to
all his "swell friends" in England, it was settled that he
should make one of the party in the car, his valet travtlling
by train. As this arrangement completed itself, Mr.
Pertie suddenly remembered my presence, and flashed me
I look of triumph.
I, listening silently, had been rejoicing in the develop-
ment of the situation as far as I was concerned; for the
sooner we got away from the chateau, the less likely was
Monsieur Charretier to succeed in catching us up. But
when I heard that we were to have Bertie with us, my
heart sank, especially as his look told me that I counted
for something in his plan. The chauffeur counted for
something, too, I feared. In any case, the rest of the tour
was spoiled, and if it had n't been for the thought that
when it was over. Jack and I might meet no more, I should
have wished it cut short.
Good-byes were perfunctory in the morning, and
nobody seemed heartbroken at parting from the Tumour
family. The big luggage, packed early and in haste,
was sent on to Paris; and when the chauffeur had dis-
posed of Bertie's additions to the Aigle's load, hostilities
began.
"Put down that seat for me," said Mr. Stokes to Mr.
Dane, indicating one of the folding chaira in the glass
cage, and carefully waiting to do so until I was within eye
and earshot.
They glared at each other like two tigers, for an instant,
and then Jack put the seat down — I knew why. A
refusal on his part to do such a service for his master's
stepson would mean that he must resign or be discharged
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<— and leave me to deal unaided with a cad. I think
Bertie knew, ioo, why he was unhesitatingly obeyed;
and racked his brain for further tests. It was not long
before he had a brilliant idea.
The car stopped at a level crossing, to let a tiain go
by, and Bertie availed himself of the opportunity to
get out.
"Sir Samuel *s going* to let me tiy my hand at drivin*,"
said he. "I don't think mtlch of your form, and I 've
been tellin' him so. My best pal is a director of the
Aigle company, and I 've driven his car a lot of times.
Her ladyship will let Elise sit inside, and I '11 watch your
style a bit before I take the wheel."
Not a word said Jack. He did n't even look at me as
he helped me down from the seat which had been mine
for so many happy days. I crept miserably into the
stuffy glass cage, where, in the folding chair, I sat as far
forward as my omoi shape and the car's allowed; Sir
Samuel's fat knees in my back. Lady Tumour's sharp
voice in my ears. And for scenery, I had Bertie's aggres-
sive shoulders and supercilious gesticulations.
The road to Nevers I scarcely saw. I think it was
flat; but Bertie's driving made it play cup and ball
with the car in a curious way, which a good chauffeur
could hardly have managed if he tried. We passed
Riom, Gannat, Aigueperse, I know; and at Moulins,
in the valley of the AUier, we- lunched in a hurry. To
Nevers we came early, but it was there we were to stop
for the night, and there we did stop, in a drizzle of rain
which prevented sight-seeing for those who had the wish,
And the freedom, to go about. As for me, I was ordered
THE MOTOR MAID 317
by Lady Tumour to mend Mr. Stokes's socks, he having
made peace by offering to "give her a swagger dinner
in town."
Bertie's cleverness was not confined to ingratiating
himself with her ladyship. He contrived adroitly to
damage the steering-gear by grazing a wall as he turned
the Aigle into the hotel courtyard, and by this feat dis-
posed of the chauffeur's evening, which was spent in
hard work at the garage. Such dinner as Jack got, he ate
there, in the shape of a furtive sandwich or two, other-
wise we should not have been able to leave in the
morning at the early hour suggested by Mr. Stokes.
Warned by the incidents of yesterday, Sir Samuel
desired his chauffeur to take the wheel again from Nevers
to Paris. But — no doubt with the view of keeping us
apart, and devising new tortures for his enemy — Bertie
elected to play Wolf to Jack's Spartan Boy, and sit beside
him. This relegated me to the cage again, with back-
massage from Sir Samuel's knees.
Before Fontainebleau, I found myself in a familiar
land. As far as Montargis I had motored with the
Milvaines more than once, conducted by Monsieur
Charretier, in a great car which might have been mine
if I had accepted it, not "with a pound of tea," but with
two hundred pounds of milUonaire. I knew the lovely
valley of the Loing, and the forest which makes the
worid green and shadowy from Bourrau to Fontainebleau,
a worid where poetry and history clasp hands. I should
have had plenty to say about it all to Jack, if we had been
together, but I was still inside the car, and by this time
Bertie had induced his stepfather to consent to his driving
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THE MOTOR MAID
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again. He pleaded that there had been something wrong
with the ignition yesterday. That was why the car had
not gone well. It had not been his fault at all. Sir
Samuel, always inclined to say "Yes" rather than "No"
to one he loved, said "Yes" to Bertie, and had cause
to regret it. Close to Fontainebleau Mr. Stokes saw
another car, with a pretty girl in it. The car was going
faster than ours, as it was higher powered and had a
lighter load. Naturally, being himself, it occurred to
Bertie that it would be well to show the pretty girl what
he could do. We were going up hill, as it happened, and
he changed speed with a quick, fierce crash. The Aigle
made a sound as if she were gritting her teeth, shivered,
and began to run back. Bertie, losing his head, tried a
lower speed, which had no effect, and Lady Tumour had
begun to shriek when Jack leaned across and put on the
hand-brake. The car stopped, just in time not to run
down a pony cart full of children.
No wonder the poor dear Aigle had gritted her teeth!
Several of them turned out to be broken in the
gear box.
"We 're donel" said Jack. "She '11 have to be towed
to the nearest garage. Pity we could n't have got on to
Paris."
"Can't you put in some false teeth?" suggested Lady
Tumour, at which Bertie laughed, and was thereupon
reproached for the accident, asTie well deserved to be.
Then the question was what should be the next step
for the passengers. I expected to be trotted reluctantly
on to Paris by train, leaving Jack behind to find a "tow,"
and see the dilemma through to an end of some sort,
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319
but to my joyful surprise Bertie used all his wiles upon
the family to induce them to stop at Fontainebleau.
It was a beautiful place, he argued, and they would like
it so much, that they would come to think the break-
down a blessing in disguise. In any case, he had intended
advising them to pause for tea, and to stay the night if
they cared for the place. They would find a good hotel,
practically in the forest; and he had an acquaintance
who owned a ch&teau near by, a very important sort
of chap, who knew everybody worth knowing in French
society. If the Governor and " Lady T. " liked, he would
go dig his friend up, and bring him round to call. May-
be they 'd all be invited to the chateau for dinner. The
man had a lot of motors and would send one for them,
very likely — perhaps would even lend a car to take
them on to Paris to-morrow morning.
I listened to these arguments and suggestions with a
creepy feeling in the roots of my hair, for I, too, have
an "acquaintance" who owns a chateau near Fon-
tainebleau: a certain Monsieur Charretier. He, also,
has a "lot of motors" and would, I knew, if he were "in
residence" be delighied to lend a car and extend an
invitation to dinner, if informed that Lys d'Angely was
of the party. Could it be, I thought, that Mr. Stokes
was acquainted with Monsieur Charretier, or that, not
being acquainted, he had heard something from the
Duchesse de Melun, and was making a little experiment
with me?
Perhaps I imagined it, but it seemed that he glanced
my way triumphantly, when Lady Tumour agreed to
stay in the hope of meeting the nameless, but important.
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THE MOTOR MAID
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friend; and I felt that, whatever happened, I must have
a word of advice from Jack.
The discussion had taken place in the road, or rather,
at the side of the road, where the combined exertions
of Jack and Bertie had pushed the wounded Aigle. The
chauffeur, having examined the car and pronounced her
helpless, walked back to interview a carter we had passed
not long before, with the view of procuring a tow. Now,
just as the discussion was decided in favour of stop-
ping over night at Fontainebleau, he appeared again, in
the cart.
We were so near the hotel in the woods that we could
be towed there in half an hour, and, ignominious as the
situation was. Lady Tumour preferred it to the greater
evil of walking. I remained in the car with her, the
chauffeur steered, the carter towed, and Sir Samuel and
his stepson started on in advance, on foo*.
At the hotel Jack was to leave us, and be towed to a
garage; but, in desperation, I murmured an appeal as
he gave me an armful of rugs. "I must ask you about
something," I whispered. "Can you come back in a
little less than an hour, and look for me in the woods,
somewhere just out of sight of the hotel?"
"Yes," he said. "I can and will. You may depend
on me."
That was all, but I was comforted, and the rugs became
suddenly light.
Rooms were secured, great stress being laid upor a
good sitting-room (in case the important friend should
call), and I unpacked as usual. When my work was
done, I asked her ladyship's permission to go out for a
THE MOTOR MAID
321
little while. She looked suspicious, clawed her brains
for an excuse to refuse, but, as there was n't a button-
less glove, or a holey stocking among the party, she
reluctantly gave me leave. I darted away, plunged
into the forest, and did not stop walking until I had got
well out of sight of the hotel. Then I sat down on a
mossy log under a great tree, and looked about for Jack.
A man was coming. I jumped up eagerly, and went to
meet him as he appeared among the trees.
It was Mr. Herbert Stokes.
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CHAPTER XXX
I FOLLOWED you," he said.
" I thought so," said I. " It was like you."
" I want to talk to you," he explained.
"But I don't want to talk to you," I objected.
"You '11 be sorry if you 're rude. What I came to
say is for your own good."
"I doubt that!" said I, looking anxiously down one
avenue of trees uiter another, for a figure that would
have been doubly welcome now.
"Well, I can easily prove it, if you *11 listen."
"As you have longer legs than I have, I am obliged
to listen."
"You won't regret it. Now, come, my dear little
girl, don't put on any more frills with me. I 'm gettin'
a bit fed up with 'em."
(I should have liked to choke him with a whole mouth-
ful of "frills," the paper kind you put on ham at Christ-
mas; but as I had none handy, I thought it would only
lead to undignified controversy to allude to them.)
" I had a little conversation about you with the Duchesse
de Melun night before last," Bertie went on, with evident
relish. "Ah, I thought that would make you blush. I
say, you 're prettier than ever when you do that! It was
she began it. She asked me if I knew your name, and
how Lady T. found you. Her Ladyship could n't get any
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THE MOTOR MAID
323
further than 'Elise,' for, if she knew any more, she 'd
forgotten it; but thanks to your friend the shuwer, I
could go one better. When I told the duchess you called
yourself d'Angely, or something like that, she said 'I was
sure of it I' Now, I expect you begin to smell a rat —
what?"
"I daresay you've been carrying one about in your
pocket ever since," I snapped, "though I can't think
what it has to do with me. I'm not interested in
dead rats."
"This is your own rat," said Bertie, grinning.
"What '11 you give to know what the duchess told me
about you?"
"Nothing," I said.
"Well, then, I '11 be generous and let you have it for
nothing. She told me she thought she recognized you,
but until she heard the name, she supposed sb** must be
mistaken; that it was only a remarkable resemblance
between my stepmother's maid and a girl who'd run
away under very peculiar circumstances from the house
of a friend of hers. What do you think of that ?"
"That the duchess is a cat," I replied, promptly.
"Most women are."
"In your set, perhaps."
"She said there was a man mixed up with the stoiy,
a rich middle-aged chap of the name of Charretier, with
a big house in Paris and a new chateau he 'd built, near
Fontainebleau. She gave me a card to him."
"He 's sure not to be at home," I remarked.
Bertie's face fell; but he brightened again. "Anyhow
you admit you know him."
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324 THE MOTOR MAID
"One has all sorts of acquaintances/' I dnwled, with
a shrug of my shoulders.
"You 're a sly little kitten — if you 're not a cat You
heard me say I thought of calling at the chftteau."
"And you heard me say the owner was n't at home."
"You seem well acquainted with his movements."
" I happened to see him, on his way south, at Avignon,
some days ago."
"Did he see you?"
"Is n't that my affair — and his?"
"By Jove — you 've got good cheek, to talk like this
to your mbtress's stepson! But maybe you think you
won't have di£Sculty in finding a place that pays you
better — what?"
"I could n't find one to pay me much worse."
"Look here, my dear, I 'm not out huntin' for repartee.
I want to have an understanding with you."
"I don't see why."
"Yes, you do, well enough. You know I like you —
in spite of your impudence."
"And I dislike you because of yours. Oh, do go
way and leave me, Mr. Stokes."
"I won't. I 've got a lot to say to you. I 've only
just begun, but you keep interruptin' me, and I can't
get ahead."
"Finish then."
" Well, what I want to say is £his. I always meant we
should stop at Fontainebleau."
"Oh — you damaged your stepfather's car on purpose!
He would be obliged to you."
"Not quite that. I intended to get them to have tea
THE MOTOR MAID
325
liere, and while they were moonin' about I was going to
have a chat with you. I was goin' to tell you about that
card to Chanetier, and somethin' else. That the
duchess asked me where we would stop in Paris, and I
told her at the best there is, of course — Hotel Athene.
She said she 'd wire her friends you 'd run away from,
that they could find you there; and if Charretier was n't at
Fontainebleau when we passed through, these people
would certainly know where to get at him. I warned
you the other night, didn't I? that if you would n't
be good and confide in me I'd find out what you
refused to tell me yourself; and I have, you see. Clever,
aren't I?"
"You 're the hatefullest man I ever tieard of I" I flung
at him.
"Oh, I sayl Don't speak too soon. You don't
know all yet. If you don't want me to, I won't call on
Charretier. Lady T. and her tuft-huntin' can go hangi
And you shan't stop at the Athene to be copped by the
Duchess's friends, if you don't like. That's what I
wpnted to see you about. To tell you it all depends on
yourself."
"How does it depend on myself?" I asked, cautiously.
"All you have to do, to get off scot free is to be a
little kind to poor Bertie. You can begin by givin' him
a kiss, here in the poetic and what-you-may-call-'em
forest of Fontainebleau."
"I would n't kiss you if you were made of gold and
diamonds, and I could have you melted down to spend I"
I exclaimed. And as I delivered this ultimatum, I
turned to run. His legs might be longer than mine, but
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I weighed about one-third as much as he, which waa in
my favour if I chose to throw dignity to the winds.
As I whisked away from him, he caught me by the
dress, and I h€>ard the gathers rip. I had to stop, I
could n't arrive at the hotel without a skirt.
"You 're a cad — a cadi** I stammered.
"And you 're a fool. Look here, I can lose you your
job and have you sent to the prison where naughty girls
go. See wliat I *ve got in my pocket."
Still grasping my frock, he scooped something out of
an inner pocket of his coat, and held it for me to
look at, in the hollow of his palm. I gave a little cry.
It was I>ady Tumour's gorgeous Itursting sun.
"I nicked that off the dressin' table the other night,
when you were n't looking. Has Lady T. been askin'
for it?"
"No," I answered, sf)eaking more to myself than to
him. "She — she's had too much to think of. She
did n't count her things that night; and at Nevers she
did n't open the bag."
"So much the worse for you, my pet, when she does
find out. She left her jewels in your charge. When I
came into the room, they were all lyin' about on the dressin'
table, and you were playin' with 'era."
" I was putting them back into her bag."
"So you say. Jolly careless of you not to know
you had n't put this thing back. It 's about the
best of the lot she had n't got plastered on for the
servants' ball."
"It was careless," I admitted. "But it was your
fault. You came in, and were so horrid, and upset me
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THE MOTOR MAID 327
10 much that I forgot what I 'd put into the hut already
and what I had n't." ^'
"Lady T. does n't know I went back to her room."
••I 'II tell hcrl" I cried.
"I '11 bet you '11 tell her, right enough. But I can
tell a different story. I 'U say I did n't go near the
room. My story will be that I was walkin' through the
woods this afternoon on my way to Charretier's chAteau
when I saw you with the thing in your hands, lookin' at
It. Probably goin' to ask the shuwer to dispose of it
for you — what ? and share profits . "
"Oh, you coward I" I exclaimed, and snatched the
diamond brooch from him.
Instantly he let go my dress, laughing.
^^ "That's rightl That's what I wanted," he said.
"Now you 've got it, and you can keep it. I '11 tell Lady
T. where to look for it — unless you '11 change your mind,
and give me that kis^-."
I was so angry, so stricken with horror and a kind of
nightmare fear which I had not time to analyze, that
I stood silent, trembling all over, with the brooch in my
hand. How silly I had been to play his game for him,
just like the t)oor stupid cat who pulled the hot chestnut
out of the ! I don't tliink any chestnut could ever
have been as hot as that bursting sun!
1 wanted to drop it in the grass, or throw it as far as
F could see it, but dared not, because it would be my
lult that it was lost, and Lady Tumour would beUeve
Bertie's story all the more readily. She would think he
had seen me with the jewel, and that I 'd hidden it be^- i-
I was afraid of what he might do.
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not to kiss. That's the question/'
"To kiss, or
laughed Bertie.
"Is it?" said Jack. And Jack's hand, inside Mr.
Stokes's beautiful, tall collar, shook Bertie back and forth
till his teeth chattered like castanets, and his good-looking
pink face grew more and more Uke a large, boiled
beetroot
I had seen Jack coming, long enough to have counted
ten before he came. But I did n't count ten. I just let
him come.
Bertie could not speak: he could only guigle. And
if I had been a Roman lady in the amphitheatre of Ntmes,
or somewhere, I 'm afraid I should have wanted to turn
my thumb down.
"What was the beast threatening you with?" Jack
wanted to know.
"The beast was threatening to make Lady Tumour
think I 'd stolen this brooch, which he 'd taken himself,"
I panted, through the beatings of my heart.
"If you didn't kiss him?"
"Yes. And he was going to do lots of other horrid
things, too. Tell Monsieur Charretier — and let my
cousins come and find me at the Hotel Athene, in Paris,
and "
"He won't do any of them. But there are several
things I am going to do to him. Go away, my child.
Run ofif to the house, as quick as you can."
I gasped. "What are you going to do to him?"
"Don't worry. I shan't hurt him nearly as much as
he deserves. I 'm only going to do what the Head must
have neglected to do to him at school."
"Jack's hand, inside Mr. Stokes's beautiful, tall collar,
shook Bertie hack and forth till his teeth
chattered like castanets "
pi-
THE MOTOR MAID 329
Bertie had come out into the woods with a neat little
stick, which during part of our conversation he had
tucked jauntily under his arm. It now lay on the ground.
I saw Jack glance at it.
"Ahl" — I faltered. "Do — do you think you'd
bettert" '
" I know I had. Go, child."
I went.
I had great faith in Jack, faith that he knew what
was best for everyone.
f ■>
^ I
CHAPTER XXXI
li;
t;
>■ i
UNFORTUNATELY I forgot to ask for
instructions as to how I should behave when I
came to the hotel. And I had the bursting sun
still in my hand.
I thought things over, as well as I could with a pound-
ing pulse for every square inch in my body.
If I were a rabbit, I could scurry into my hole and
"lay low" while other people fought out their destiny
and arranged mine; but being a ^rl, tingling with my
share of American pluck, and blazing with French fire,
rabbits seemed to me at the instant only worthy of being
made into pie.
Bertie, at this moment, was being made into pie —
humble pie; and I don't doubt that the chauffeur, whom
he had consistently tortured (because of me) would make
him eat a large slice of himself when the humble pie was
finished — also because of me. And because it was
because of me, I knocked at the Tumours* sitting-room
door with a bold, brave knock, as if I thought myself
their social equal.
They had had tea, and were sitting about, looking grace-
ful in the expectation of seeing Bertie and his French friend.
It was a disappointment to her ladyship to see only
me, and she showed it with a frown, but Sir Samuel
looked up kindly, as usual.
r>i
THE MOTOR MAID 331
I laid the bursting sun on the table, and told them
everything, very fast, without pausing to take breath,
so that they wouldn't have time to stop me. But I
did n't begin with the bursting sun, or even with the beat-
mg that Bertie was enjoying in the woods; I began with
the Princess Boriskoff, and Lady Kilmpmy; and I
addressed Sir Samuel, from beginning to end. Somehow,
I felt I had his sympathy, even when I rushed at the most
embarrassing part, which concerned his stepson and
the necktie.
Just as I 'd told about the brooch, and Bertie's threat
and was coming to his punishment, another knock at
the door produced the two young men, both pale, but
Jack with a noble pallor, while Bertie's was the sick
paleness of pain and shame.
"I 've brought him to apologize to Miss d'Angely
m your presence, Sir Samuel, and Lady Tumour's "'
said the chauffeur. "I see you know something of
the story." ^
"They know all now," said I. For Bertie's face
proved the truth of my words, if they had needed proof.
His eyes were swimming in tears, and he looked Uke a
whipped school-boy.
But suddenly a wh- , roused her ladyship to speak
up m his defence -or at least to criticize the chauffeur
for presuming [to take her stepson's chastisement into
his hands.
"What right have you to set yourself up as Elise's
champion, anyway?" she demanded, shrilly. "Have
you and she been getting engaged to each other behind
our backs?"
Kll
i! fei
i
332 THE MOTOR MAID
"It would be my highest happiness to be engaged
to IkCss d'Angely if she would marry me," said Jack,
with such a splendidly sincere ring in his voice that I
could almost have believed him if I had n't known he was
in love with another woman. "But I am no match for
her. It 's only as her friend that I have acted in her
defence, as any decent man has a right to act when a
lady is insulted."
Then Bertie apologized, in a dull voice, with his eyes
on the ground, and mumbled a kind of confession,
mixed with self-justification. He had pocketed the
brooch, yes, meaning to play a trick, but had intended
how the redoubtable Simpkins refused to trust herself upon
did n't usually mind a bit of a flirtation and a present
or two; how was he to know this one was different?
Sorry if he had caused annoyance; could say no more —
and so on, and so on, until I stopped him, having heard
enough.
Poor Sir Samuel was crestfallen, but not too utterly
crushed to reproach his bride with unwonted sharp-
ness, when she would have scolded me for carelessness
in not putting the brooch away. "Let the girl alone!"
he grumbled, "she *s a very good girl, and has behaved
well. I wish I could say the same of others nearer
to me."
"Of course. Sir Samuel, after what 's happened, you
wouldn't want me to stay in your employ, any more
than I would want to stay," said Jack. "Unfortunately
the Aigle will be hung up two or three days, till new pin-
ions can be fitted in, at the garage. I can send them out
from Paris, if you like; but no doubt you *11 prefer to
? ^ I
THE MOTOR MAID 333
have my engagement with you to come to an end to-day.
Mr. Stokes has driven the car, and can again."
"Not if I have anything to say about it," munnured
her ladyship. "Scattering the poor thing's teeth all over
the place!"
"There are plenty of good chauffeurs to be got at short
notice in Paris," Jack suggested, "and you are certain
to find one by the time you 're ready to start."
"You 're right, Dane. We '11 have to part company,"
said Sir Samuel. "As for Elise here "
"She '11 have to go too," broke in her ladyship. "It 's
most inconvenient, and all your stepson's fault — though
she 's far from blameless, in my humble opinion, whatever
yours may be. Don't tell me that a young man will go
about^ flirting with lady's maids unless they encourage
"I shall leave of course, immediately," said I, my ears
tingling.
" Who wants you to do anything else ? Though nobody
cares for my convenience. / can always go to the wall.
But thank heaven there are maids in Paris as well as
chauffeurs. And talking of that combination, my advice
to you is, if Dane 's willing to have you, don't turn up your
nose at him, but marry him as quickly as you can. I
suppose even in your class of life there 's such a thing as
gossip."
I was scarlet. Somehow I got out of the room, and
while I was scurrying my few belongings into my dressing
bag, and spreading out the red satin frock to leave as a
legacy to Lady Tumour (in any case, nothing could have
induced me to wear it again), Sir Samuel sent me up an
334
THE MOTOR MAID
'. }
envelope containing a month's wages, and something
over. I enclosed the "something over" in another
envelope, with a grateful line of refusal, and sent it back.
Thus ends my experience as a motor maid!
What was going to become of me I did n't know, but
while I was jamming in hatpins and praying for ideas,
there came a knock at the door. A pencilled note from
the late chauffeur, signed hastily, "Yours ever, J. D.,"
and inviting me down to the couriers' dining-room for a
conference. There would be no one there but ourselves
at this hour, he said, and we should be able to talk over
our plans in peace.
What a place to say farewell forever to the only man I
ever had, could or would love — a couriers' dining room,
with grease spots on the tablecloth! However, there was
no help for it, since I was facing the world with fifty francs,
and could not afford to pay for a romantic background.
After all that had happened, and especially after certain
impertinent references made to our private affairs, I felt
a new and very embarrassing shyness in meeting the man
with whom I 'd been playing that pleasant little game
called " brother and sister." He was waiting for me in
the couriers' room, which was even dingier and bad more
grease spots than I had fancied, and I hurried into speech
to cover my nervousness.
"I don't know how I *m going to thank you for all
you * ' done for me," I stammered. "That horrible
Bert.. "
"Lei's not talk of him," said Jack. "Put him out
of your mind for ever. He has no place there, or in your
THE MOTOR MAID
336
life ~ and no more have any of the incidents that led
up to him. You 've had a very bad time of it, poor little
girl, and now "
"Oh, I haven't," I exclaimed. "I've been happier
than ever before in my life. That is — I — it was all
80 novel, and like a play "
"Well, now the play 's over," Jack broke in, pitying
my evident embarrassment. "I wanted to ask you if
you 'd let me advise and perhaps help you. We have
been brother and sister, you know. Nothing can take
that away from us."
" No," said I, in a queer little voice. " Nothing can."
"You want to go to England, I know," he went on.
"And — if you '11 forgive my taking liberties, you have n't
much money in hand, you 've almost told me. I suppose
you have n't changed your mind about your relations in
Paris? You would n't like to go back to them, or write,
and tell them firmly that you won't marry the person they
seem to have set their hearts on for you ? That you 've
made your own choice, and intend to abide by it,' but that
if they '11 be sensible and receive you, you 're willing to
stop with them until — until the man in England "
"What man in England?" I cut him short, in utter
bewilderment.
"Why, the — er — you didn't tell me his name, of
course, but that rich chap you expected to meet when
you got over to England. Don't you think it would be
better if he came to you at your cousins', if they "
"There is n't any ' rich chap'," I exclaimed. " I don't
know what you mean — oh, yes, I do, too. I did speak
about someone who was very rich, and would be kind to
I,
u
> att-
336
THE MOTOR MAID
me. I nther think — I remember now — I guested you
imagined it was a man; but that seemed the greatest joke,
so I did n't try to undeceive you. Fancy your believing
that, all this time, though, and thinking about itl"
"I've thought of it on an average once every three
minutes," said Jack.
"You 're cha£Bng now, of course. Why, the person I
hoped might be kind to me in England is an old lady —
oh, but such a funny aid lady I — who wanted me to be
her companion, and said, no matter when I came, if it
were years from now, I must let her know, for she would
like to have me with her to help chase away a dragon of
a maid she 's afraid of. I met her only once, in the train
the night before I arrived at Cannes; but she and I got
to be the greatest friends, and her bulldog, Beau "
"Her bulldog, Beau 1"
"A perfect lamb, though he looks like a cross between
a crocodile and a gnome. The old lady's name is Miss
Paget "
"My aunt!"
I stared at Jack, not knowing how to take this exclama-
tion. The few Englishmen I met when mamma and I
were together, or when I lived with the Milvaines, were
rather fond of using that ejaculation when it was
apparently quite irrelevant. If you told a youthful
Englishman that you were not allowed to walk or
bicycle alone in the Bois, he was as likely as not to
say "My aunt I" In fact, whatever surprised him was
apt to elicit this cry. I have known several young men
who gave vent to it at intervals of from half to three-
quarters of an hour; but I had never before beard Jack
THE MOTOR MAID
337
nuke the exclamation, so when I had looked at him and
he had looked at me in an emotional kind of silence for ft
few seconds, I asked him, "Why *My aunt'T**
"Because she is my aunt."
"Surely not my Miss Paget?"
"I should think it highly improbable that your Miss
Paget and my Miss Paget could be the same, if you
had n't mentioned her bulldog, Beau. There can 't be a
quantity of Miss Pagets going about the world with bull-
dogs named Beau. Only my Miss Paget never does go
about the world. She hates travelling."
"So does mine. She said that being in a train was
no pursuit for a gentlewoman."
"That sounds like her. She *s quite mad."
"She seemed very kind."
"I *m glad she did — to you. She has seemed rather
the contrary to me."
"Oh, what did she do to you ?"
"Did her best to spoil my life, that's all — with the
best intentions, no doubt. Still, by Jove, I thank her!
If it had n't been for my aunt I should never have seen
— my sister."
"Thank you. You 're always kind — and polite. Do
you mean it was because of her you took to what you call
'shuwing'?"
"Exactly."
"But I thought — I thought "
"What?"
"I — don't dare tell you."
"I should think you might know by this time that you
can tell me anything. You toi«< tell mel"
III
-■ji J
13* -
Hi i
1%
4. . ■
I •
t
*
THE MOTOR MAID
"I thought it was the beautiful lady who was with
you the first time you saw the battlement garden at
Beaucaire, who ruined your lifeT"
" Beautiful lady — battlement garden T Good heavens,
what extraordinary things we seem to have been thinking
about each other: I with my man in England; you with
your beautiful lady "
"She's a different thing. Yon talked to me about
bet" I insisted. "Surely you must remember?"
"I remember the conversation perfectly. I didn't
explun my meaning as a professor demonstrates a rule
in higher mathematics, but I thought you could n't help
understanding well enough, especially a vain little thing
like you."
"I, vain? Ohl"
"You are, aren't you?"
"I — well, I 'm afraid I am, a little."
**You could never have kx>ked in the glass if you
were n't. Did n't you see, or guess, that I was talking
about an Ideal whom I had conjured into being, as a
de^rable companion in that garden ? I can 't under*
stand from the way the conversation ran, how you could
have helped it. When I first went to the battlement
garden I was several years younger, steeped with the
spirit of Provence and full of thoughts of Nicolete. I
was just sentimental enough to imagine that such a girl
as Nicolete was with me there, and always afterward I
associated the vision of the Ideal with that garden. I
said to myself, that I should like to come there again
with that Ideal in the flesh. And then — then I did
come again — with you."
THE MOTOR MAID 339
"But you said -you thought of her always -that
because you couldn't have her -or somethinff of
the sort **
"Well, all that was no surprise to you, was it? You
must have known perfectly well —ever since that night
at Avignon when you let your hair down, anyhow, if not
before, that I was trying desperately hard not to be an
Idiot about you -and not exactly rac'iant with joy in
the thought that whoever the man was who would set
you, it could n't be I?"
"O-ohl" I breathed a long, heavenly breath, that
seemed to let all the sorrows and worries pour out of my
h.;art, as the air rushed out of my lungs. "O-oh, you
can't mean, truly and really, that you 're in love with
Me, can you ?"
" Surely it is n't news to you."
"I should think it was!" I exclaimed, raptuitMialy.
**Oh, I'm «o happy!"
"Another scalp — ihou/?l
"Don't be a beast. I ;
you know. It's b<-, .; hii, :
Then I rather thiu;: N «
< . humble one?"
• orribly in love with you,
!g 'J dreadfully."
. ui "My darling!" but I 'm
not quite sure, for I v tks .0 busy falling into his arms,
and he was holding me 30 ver', very tightly.
We stayed Uke that for a long time, not saying any-
thing, and not even thinking, but feeling — feeUng.
And the couriers' dining-room was a princess's boudoir
m an enchanted palace. The grease spots were stars and
moons that had rolled out of heaven to see how two poor
mortals looked when they were perfectly happy. Just a
poor chauffeur and a motor maid : but the world was their*
CHAPTER XXXn
;! FTER a while we talked agtun, and explained all
/\ the cross-purposes to each other, with the most
A. jL interesting pauses in between the explanations.
And Jack told me about himself, and Miss Paget.
It seems that her only sister was his mother, and she
had been in love with his father before he met the sister.
The father's name was Claud, and Jack was named
after him. It was Miss Paget's favourite name, because
of the man she had loved. But the first Claud was n't
very lucky. He lost all his own money and most of his
wife's, and died in South America, where he *d gone in
the hope of making more. Then the wife. Jack's mother,
died too, while he was at Eton. After that Miss Paget's
house was his home. Whenever he was extravagant at
Oxford, as he was sometimes, she would pay his debts
quite happily, and tell him that everything she had would
be his some day, so he was not to bother about money.
Accordingly, he didn't bother, but Uved rather a lazy
life — so he said — and enjoyed himself. A couple of
years before I met him he got interested, through a
friend, in a newly invented motor, which they both
thought would be a wonderful success. Jack tried to
get his aunt interested, too, but she did n't like the friend
who had invented it — seemed jealous of Jack's affec-
tion for him — and refused to have anything to do with
840
THE MOTOR MAID 341
the affair. Jack had gone so far, however, while taking
her consent for granted, that he felt bound to go on; and
when Mis Paget would have nothing to do with floating
the new invention, Jack sold out the investments of his
own little fortune (all that was left of his mother's money),
putting everything at his friend's disposal. Miss Paget
was disgusted with him for doing this, and when the
motor would n't mote and the invention would n't float,
she just said, "I told you so!"
It was at this time. Jack went on to tell me, that Miss
Paget bought Beau. She had had another dog, given her
by Jack, which died, and she collected Beau herself.
Only a few days after Beau's arrival. Jack went down
into the country to see his aunt and talk things over; for
she had brought him up to expect to be her heir; and as
she wanted him with her continually, as if he had been her
son, she had objected to his taking up any profession.
Now that he 'd lost his own money in this unfortunate
speculation, he felt he ought to do something not to be
dependent upon her, his income of two hundred a year
having been sunk with the unfloatable motor invention.
He meant to ask Miss Paget to lend him enough to go in
as partner with another friend, who had a very thriving
motor business, and to suggest paying her back so much
a year. But everything was against him on that visit
to his aunt's country house.
In the first place, she was in a very bad humour with
him, because he had gone against her wishes, and she
didn't want to hear anything more about motors or
motor business. Then, there was Beau, as a tertium
quid.
342
THE MOTOR MAID
r-r'
Beau had been bought from a dreadful man who had
probably stolen, and certainly ill-treated him. The dog
was very young, and owing to his late owner's cruelty,
feared and hated the sight of a man. Since she had had
him Miss Paget had done her very best to spoil the poor
animal, encouraging him to growl at the men-servants,
and laughing when he frightened away any male creature
who had come about the place. While she and J&A
were arguing over money and motors, who should str(^l
in but Beau, who at sight of a stranger — a man —
closeted with his indulgent mistress, flew into a rage. He
seized Jack by the trouser-leg and began to worry it,
and Jack had to choke him before the dog would let go
his grip.
The sight of this dreadful deed threw Miss Panpet into
hysterics. She shrieked that her nephew was cmel,
ungrateful — that he had never k>ved her, that he cased
or!y for her money, and now that he grudged her the affec-
tion of a dog with which he had had nt^ing to do; tluit
the dog's dislike for liim was a warning to her, and made
her see him in his true light at last. "Go — go — out of
my «fht — or I'll set my poor darling at you!" she
cried, and Jack went, alter saying several rather frank
things.
At heart he was fond (rf his aunt, in spite of her eccen-
tricities, and believed that she was of him, therefore he
expected a letter of apology for her injustice and a request
to come back. But no such letter ever arrived. Perhaps
Miss Paget thought it was his place to apologize, and
was waiting for him to do so. In any case, they had
never seen each other again; and after a few weeks,
THE MOTOR MAID 343
Jade received a formal note from his aunt's solicitor
saying that, as she realized now he had "no real
affection for her or hers" he need look for no future
advantages from her, but was at Uberty to take up
any line of business he chose. Miss Paget wouW "no
longer attempt to interfere with his wishes or direct
his affairs."
This must have been a pleasant letter for a penniless
young man, just robbed of all his future prospects. His
own money gone, and no hope of any to put into a pio-
Session or business! Jack lived as he could for some
months, trying for all sorts of positions, making a few
guineas by sketches and motoring articles for newspapers,
and somehow contriving to keep out of debt. He weit
to Ranee to "write up" a great automobile race, as a
sptaal commission; but the paper which had given the
commiaaion — a new one devoted to the interests of motor-
ing— suddenly failed. Jack found himself stranded;
advertised for a position as chauffeur, and got it. There
was the history which he "had n't inflicted on me before,
lest I should be bored."
He was interested to hear of Miss Paget's journey to
Italy, and knew all about the cousin who had died, leaving
her money which she did n't need, and a castle in Italy
which she did n't want. He laughed when I told him
no harm, only a little fun - pretty girl — lady's-maids
that "great nasty wet thing," which was the Channel:
but nothing could hold his attention firmly except our
affairs. For his affairs and my affairs were not separate
any longer. They were joined together for weal or
woe. Whatever happened, however imprudent the
344
THE MOTOR MAID
mm
;•_
Step might be, he decided that we must be married.
We loved each other; each was the other's world, and
nothing must part us. Besides, said Jack, I needed a
protector. I had no home, and he could not have me
persecuted by creatures who produced Com Plasters. His
idea was to take me to England at once, and have me there
promptly made Mrs. John Dane, by special licence. He
had a few pounds, and a few things which he could sell
would bring in a few more. Then, with me for an
incentive, he should get something to do that was 'orth
doing.
I said "Yes" to everything, and Jack darted away to
converse with a nice man he had met in the garage, who
had a motor, and was going to Paris almost immediately.
If he had not gone yet, perhaps he would take us.
Luckily he had not gone, and he did take us. He
took us to the Gare du Nord, where we would just
have time to eat something, and catch the boat train
for Calais. We should be in London in the morning,
and Jack would apply for a special licence as early as
possible.
I stood guarding our humble heap of luggage, while
Jack spent his hard-earned sovereigns for our tickets,
when suddenly I heard a voice which sounded vaguely
familiar. It was broken with distress and excitement;
still I felt sure I had heard it before, and turned quickly,
exclaiming "Miss Paget 1"
There she was, with a dressing bag in one hand, and
a broken dog-leash in the other. Tears were running
down her fat face (not so fat as it had been) under spec-
tacles, and her false front was put on anyhow.
THE MOTOR MAID
345
"Oh, my dear girll" she wailed, without showing the
slightest sign of astonishment al sight of me. " What a
mercy you 've turned up, but it 's just like you. Have
you seen my Beau anywhere?"
"No," I said, rather stiflBy, for I could n't forgive her
or her dog for their treatment of my Jack.
"Oh, dear, what shall I dol" she exclaimed. "He
hates railway stations. You can't think the awful
time we've had since you left me in the train at
Cannes. And now he 's broken his leash, and run
away, and I can't speak any French, except to ask
for hot water in Italian, and I don't see how I 'm going
to find my darling again. They '11 snatch him up, to
fling him into some terrible, murderous waggon, and
take him to a lethal home, or whatever they call it.
For heaven's sake, go and ask everybody where he
is — and if you find him you can have anything on
earth I 've got, especially my Italian castle which I
can't sell. You can come to England with me and
Beau, when you 've got him, and I *11 make you happy
all the rest of your life. Oh, go — do go. I 'U look
after your luggage."
"It's half your own nephew's. Jack Dane's, luggage,"
said I, breathless and pulsing. "I 'm going to England
with him, and he 'a going to make me happy all the rest
of my life, for we mean to be married, in spite of your
cruelty which has made him poor, and turned him into a
chauflFeur. But — here he comes now. And — why.
Miss Paget, there 's Beau walking with him, without any
leash. Beau must remember him."
"Beau with Jack Dane! " gasped the old lady. "Jack
Dane's found Beau? Beau's forgiven him! Th^n so
346 THE MOTOR MAID
will I. You can both have the Italian castle — and
everything that goes with it. And eveiything else that 's
mine, too, except Beau."
"Hello, aunt, here 's your dog," said Jack.
Beau licked his foot.
THE END
nd