t a few minutes later when we were in the long,
straight street of Mentone, weaving our swift way between coming and
going electric trams, all the good work I had accomplished had to be
done over again.

"I can't stand it," moaned Mrs. Kidder, looking, in her misery, like a
frost-bitten apple. "Oh, can't the man _see_ that street car's going to
run us down? And now there's another, coming from behind. They'll crush
us between them. Mr. Terrymore, stop--stop! I'll give you a thousand
dollars to take me back to Cap Martin. Oh, he doesn't hear! Sir
Ralph--why you're _laughing_!"

"Mamma, you'd send a mummied cat into hysterics," giggled Beechy. "I
guess together we'd make the fortune of a dime museum, if they could
show us now. But the cars _didn't_ run over us, did they?"

"No, but the next ones will--and oh, this cart! Mr. Terrymore's the
queerest man, he's steering right for it. No, we've missed it _this_
time."

"We'll miss it every time, you'll see," I reassured her. "Barrymore is a
magnificent driver; and look, Miss Destrey isn't nervous at all."

"She hasn't got as much to live for as Mamma and I have," said Beechy,
trying to hide the fact that she was holding on to the side of the car.
"You might almost as well be smashed in an automobile as end your days
in a convent."

Here was a revelation, but before I had time to question the speaker
further, she and her mother were clinging to me again as if I were a
Last Straw or a Forlorn Hope.

This sort of thing lasted for four or five minutes, which doubtless
appeared long to them, but they were not in the least tedious for me. I
was quite enjoying myself as a Refuge for Shipwrecked Mariners, and I
was rather sorry than otherwise when the mariners began to find their
own bearings. They saw that, though their escapes seemed to be by the
breadth of a hair, they always were escapes, and that no one was anxious
except themselves. They probably remembered, also, that we were not
pioneers in the sport of motoring; that some thousands of other people
had done what we were doing now, if not worse, and still lived to tell
the tale--with exaggerations.

Presently the strained look left their faces; their bodies became less
rigid; and when they began to take an interest in the shops and villas I
knew that the worst was over. My arm and knee felt lonely and deserted,
as if their mission in life had been accomplished, and they were now
mere obstacles, occupying unnecessary