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Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microraproductions  /  institut  Canadian  da  microraproductions  historiquas 


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a 


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L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire  qu'il  lui  a 
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plaire qui  sont  peut-Atre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
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ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modifk»tion  dans  la  m^tho- 
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lOx 

14x 

18x 

22x 

26x 

30x 

J 

12x 

16x 

20x 

24x 

28x 

32x 

Tha  copy  film«d  h«r«  has  bMn  reproduced  thanki 
to  tha  ganaroaity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'axamplaira  film*  fut  raproduit  grico  i  ia 
g4n4roaiti  da: 

Blbllotheque  natlonala  du  Canada 


Tha  imagaa  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  boat  quality 
poaaibia  eonaidaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  icaoping  with  tha 
filming  contract  apocif Icationa. 


Laa  imagaa  suivantaa  ont  *ti  raproduitas  avac  la 
plua  grand  aoin.  cempta  tanu  da  ia  condition  at 
da  ia  nanat*  da  I'axampiaira  fiimi,  at  •n 
conformity  avac  iaa  conditiona  du  contrat  da 
filmaga. 


Original  copiaa  in  printed  paper  covera  are  filmed 
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or  illuatrated  impreoaion. 


The  iaat  recorded  frame  on  eech  microfiche 
ahail  contain  tha  symbol  •^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  Y  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  appiiaa. 

Mapa.  plataa.  eharu.  etc..  mey  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  aa 
required.  The  following  diagrama  illustrate  the 
method: 


Lee  eaempiairea  originaux  dont  ia  eouvartura  an 
papier  eat  imprimia  sont  filmis  1%  commancant 
par  la  premier  plat  at  an  terminant  soit  par  la 
darniire  page  qui  eomporte  une  amprainta 
d'impression  ou  d'iliustration.  soit  par  ia  second 
plat,  salon  la  caa.  Toua  las  autras  axemplairos 
originaux  sont  filmis  an  commancant  par  la 
premiere  pege  qui  eomporte  une  amprainta 
d'impraaaion  ou  d'iiiuatration  at  an  terminant  par 
la  damiire  page  qui  eomporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  dea  symbolea  suivants  apparaltra  sur  la 
demiire  image  do  cheque  microfiche,  salon  lo 
cas:  la  symboia  — ^  signifia  "A  SUIVRE".  la 
symboia  ▼  signifia  "FIN". 

Lea  cartea.  planches,  tableaux,  etc..  pauvent  itre 
fiimte  A  dea  taux  da  riduction  diff*rents. 
Lorsqua  la  document  est  trop  grand  pour  itra 
raproduit  en  un  seui  cliche,  ii  est  filmi  i  partir 
da  i'angie  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  i  droits. 
at  de  haut  an  bas,  an  prenant  la  nombra 
d'imagea  nteessaire.  Lea  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  ia  mOthode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

MICROCOPY   RISOIUTION  TBT  CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


IM     in 


12^ 


■  fc3 


u 


IM 


12.0 


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T  H   E^l 
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>^» 


Kalisii^ 


ttanr  w 


0 


C  N  G  AMVWILLIAMSON 


i.„...i|vi.,;v' 


:!/   ] 


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- 


MICROCOPY   RiSOlUTION   TfST  CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


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I 


'|;i» 


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. 


1*1 

u 


«1 


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 


I 


I 


f 

I'l 

I 


! 


11 


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 


»* 


I 


^ 


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." 


i*  ■ 


u 


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' 

I 


I  !  % 


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. 


1^ 


92 


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 


B    I 


m 


M 


130 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


'il 


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 


li 


I 
I 


II 


132 


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 


i-I, 


t; 


n 


134 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


li 


J 


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 

197 


138 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


If 


jl 


$; 


I 


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 


i! 


140 


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 


•1 


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. 


m: 


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 


I 


ii 

I 


144 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


?     i 


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 


W'k 


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, 


t'* 


146 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


I 
I 


If 


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 


^1 


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 


M 


m\ 


'ii ; 


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 


-I  I 


:,,       i 


i      J  »: 


\ 


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  ».., 


I 


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 


frtif); 


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 


ii.  ;i  i 


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^ 


!     If 


m 


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." 


lii  ^i 


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 


m 


■  '  "' 


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 
I 


M 


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 


i-i 


I 


Ih. 


ly 


m 


I 


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." 


+  ■  I  H 


S3  •  ji  'M  ' 

tiff- 


'  I 


m 


I  i 


1 


224 


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. 


w 


'M 

^*'fl| 

i;  .^^HI 

Ij    ,  1 

t^Mf^- 

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 


P-'  M 


1  • 


.1         !' 


ii 


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 


mm 


230 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


ft'      '  '■ 


ii  h 


I 


a 

/"    i: 

'4H 

li 

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 


■  ill 


'1'  I 

m 


ti 


iiti 


232 


THE  MOTOR   MAID 


I 

u  i 


f 

L  i 
i  I 
:  I 


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( 


» 


riHIiiii 


mm 


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 


t 


■A 


f 


^11 


*i|4?| 


234 


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 


•,   ! 
\  I 


1« 


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!" 


1) 


'  m 


m 

'■mi 


236 


THE  MOTOR  MAID 


li     ; 


I    i\ 


%i-1 


"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 


i 


V 


Pi 


*! 

%■ 


1 


n 


e  ■ 


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." 


;!i 


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 


=1! 


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 

841 


' 


( : 


I 


2 


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 


fi 


1^ 


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 

:b  I 


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 


i 

m 

■  . 'i 


I- 


\r 


ii; 


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. 


i       ■,*■•; 


i!  i 


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^ 


1^1 


2U 


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 


i>. 


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 


I  m 


1 1 


'    '^^m 

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 

2o9 


r: 


4 
I. 

r\ 


t  J 


Ij 


m 


360 


THE  MOTOR  MAID 


n 


:     .  t  - 


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 


K-t  ■   +-•■ 


iMmauL 


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 


■ill 

i  31 


MKROCOPV   RBOUITiON  TBT  CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


IM 


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13.6 


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^    APPLIED  IM/IGE    Ir 


1653  Eosl  Main  Street 

Rochester.   New  York        U609       USA 

(716)  482  -  0300  -  Phone 

(716)  288 -5989 -Fa. 


262 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


\\: 


1 


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." 


m     I: 


M'. 


:-l. 


■« 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


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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264 


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 


ki 


M 


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! 


^-..    ,'    i 


■^1 


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 


■hi 


J  >i 


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268 


THE  MOTOR  MAID 


in^r   ■  I 


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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 


I'l 


m\ 


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 


't 


^1 

■.--31 


270 


THE  MOTOR   MAID 


.4  I 


'5-T 


iti. 


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 


<!■'■'« 


|l 


M 


272 


THE  MOTOR  MAID 


'I  . 


I 


i 


J     f 


If:' 


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. 


i    i 


M 


I..H 


"It  took  half  an  hour  to  dig  the  car    >it,  and  push  her 
up  from  the  hollow  w/iere  the  snt  .0  lay  thickest  " 


!■»[      J    .k 


m 


I  I 


■  I 


THE  MOTOR   MAID 


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." 


m 

if- 


!.■;' 


ril 


i  ■ 


I 


V- 


n  ■  ■    *  ■ 


!        .1     j- 


274 


THE  MOTOR   MAID 


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 

27o 


nh 


i 


M' 


11 


n 


276 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


i 


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." 


I"! 


f: 


ii 


t, 


t  I 


^t  * 


( 

m 


iv 


278 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


: 


i     .,;  - 


Hli 


"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 


m 


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 


J  N 


m 
r  ' 


[i  I 


I 

4 


280 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


il 


H    1 


'   i 


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 

281 


iti 


i 

w 

T. 
f 
I 

If 


i 


11 


r 
I 
I 
fi 


' 


282 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


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." 


^11 


J 


THE  MOTOR   MA^D 

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 


m  I 


'    4 


i    , 
Si   T 

:  h 


286 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


*-  I 


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. 


:l 


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 


■f  V 


hi 

, 
I 

h 

> 

1. 

! 


288 


THE  MOTOR  MAID 


i 


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. 


if 


ill 


I 


if     I 


i  ■ 


ft 


'>■■. 

li! 


J-  f  1 


i::i- 


i 


m ,  * 


■i''F 


iii 


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 

£90 


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. 


if  «i 


1 


i*' 

h 


292 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


1 


.4' 


•S.I 

i 


"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. 


i 


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 


11  V 


■  l  i 


H*  f ' 


■m 


e  ii 


294 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


■1'  i/' 


t     ■  r  r         ■  ; 


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 


jinl 


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 


■i.     \' 


11 

■ft 


■:  1 

4    ^ 


296 


THE  MOTOR   MAID 


! 


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 


M"  ■4. 


%:^ 


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 


ii 


■St  *" 


'rl 


if 

I*     i 


208 


THE  MOTOR   MAID 


V'h 


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.' 


» 


I A 


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." 


i  i 


•1..  , 


300 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


rr     :| 


i 


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. 


;:  i  I1 


"I 


il   ¥} 


It 


V  5 

e  J. 


m 


n 


^^K                  i> 

i'  '^' 

CHAPTER  XXVni 


i^!->ri 


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 


,1;    iw 
%     ■■  1 


JuLm 


"Ml 


304 


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 


I 


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1  '.' 

..j  ■. 

<i 

11 

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-'■     1 

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THE  MOTOR  MAID 


u 


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 


i  i 


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. 


m 


it 


i      » 


R 


It;-  ^ 


f  i 


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 


r  Ij 


1 1 


■   1 


812 


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 


'1 


I 


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 

SIS 


314 


(■  > 


ft!}    .  i 


i; 


I 


U 


THE     MOTOR   MAID 


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 


m 


1'  I 


■:,     i 


.1-^(1 


Jm 


316 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


n 


[  \ 


t: 


<— 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 


II 


318 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


f*1 


:f. 


•if 


•*ti    i^ 


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, 


IS! 


\i 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


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. 


^1 

t;   1 


320 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


*-M 


B- 


^1 


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. 


'I 


III 


n 


L(  « 


M 


i 


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 

Sii 


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." 


■h. 


I 


:H 


IJ 


I'i 


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 


■f-r. 


11 


H 


326 


THE   MOTOR   MAID 


«»-'  -'-i 


^ 


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 


■» . 


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. 


328 


ill') 


11^ 


I 


THE  MOTOR   MAID 

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