ut no one stopped me, and I
reached the stable just as a man came sauntering out to take his final
look at the weather.

It was the fellow I sought, Thomas the coachman.

I had not miscalculated the nature of my man. In ten minutes we were
seated together on an open balcony, smoking and beguiling the time with
a little harmless gossip. After a free and easy discussion of the great
event, mingled with the naturally-to-be-expected criticism of the
police, we proceeded under my guidance to those particulars for which I
had risked losing this very valuable hour.

He mentioned Mrs. Ocumpaugh; I mentioned Mrs. Carew.

"A beautiful woman," I remarked.

I thought he looked astonished. "_She_ beautiful?" was his doubtful
rejoinder. "What do you think of Mrs. Ocumpaugh?"

"She is handsome, too, but in a different way."

"I should think so. I've driven rich and I've driven poor. I've even sat
on the box in front of an English duchess, but never have I seen such
features as Mrs. Ocumpaugh's. That's why I consent to drive an American
millionaire's wife when I might be driving the English nobility."

"A statue!" said I; "cold!"

"True enough, but one you never tire of looking at. Besides, she can
light up wonderfully. I've seen her when she was all a-quiver, and
lovely as the loveliest. And when do you think that was?"

"When she had her child in her arms."

I spoke in lowered tones as befitted the suggestion and the
circumstances.

"No," he drawled, between thoughtful puffs of smoke; "when Mr. Ocumpaugh
sat on the seat beside her. This, when I was driving the victoria. I
often used to make excuse for turning my head about so as to catch a
glimpse of her smile at some fine view and the way she looked up at him
to see if he was enjoying it as much as she. I like women who love their
husbands."

"And he?"

"Oh, she has nothing to complain of in him. He worships the ground she
walks on; and he more than worshiped the child."

Here _his_ voice fell.

I brought the conversation back as quickly as I could to Mrs. Carew.

"You like pale women," said I. "Now I like a woman who looks plain one
minute, and perfectly charming the next."

"That's what people say of Mrs. Carew. I know of lots who admire that
kind. The little girl for one."

"Gwendolen? Was she attracted to Mrs. Carew?"

"Attracted? I've seen her go to her from her mother's lap like a bird to
its nest. Many a time have I driven the carriage with Mrs. Ocum