ing.

"Mademoiselle has an errand."

"Ah! then I'll drive Mademoiselle. Wish I had a tenner for every time
I've driven an Aigle! 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 drive it unless
I receive different orders," said he.

"I'm giving you different orders," said Bertie.

"I take my orders only from the owner of the car."

"You're beastly impertinent," snapped Bertie, "and I'll report you to
Sir Samuel."

"As you choose," returned Jack, turning the starting-handle.

"Why don't you say 'sir' when you speak to me? You don't seem to have
trained into chauffeur manners yet."

"If I were your chauffeur, you would have the right to criticize. As I'm
not, and never will be, you haven't. Mademoiselle, the car's ready. Will
you get in?"

I jumped into my usual place, beside the driver's seat.

"Ah, you sit by the chauffeur, do you?" said Bertie. "I don't wonder he
wants to keep his job."

For an instant I was afraid that Jack would strike him.

My blood rushed to my head, and I half rose from the seat, with a
choked, warning whisper of "Jack!"

It was the first time I'd called him that, except to myself, and I saw
him give the faintest start. He looked at the other man, and then,
though Bertie stepped quickly forward as if to open the car door and
jump in, he sprang to 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. "Keep away from that awful
ball to-night."

"What! With you there? I know my business better."

I couldn't help laughing. "Your present business, I 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-up Lady Turnour
is making me wear, that's the selfish part of my reason--and--and it
will be so _horrid_ for you, in every way."

"I'm callous to anything they can do now, except one thing."

"What?"

"If you don't know already, I mean where you're 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 understanding him.

"I feel bitter sometimes. Do you wonder? But for heaven's sake, don't
let's talk