to have a glimpse of the Riviera, and then go on. But I
hadn't thought of it, and I'm not sure if it could be managed. I'd have
to reflect upon the idea a little, and cable my father to see if he were
willing. Not that there'd be much trouble about that. He trusts me, and
almost always lets me do what I like. But supposing--just _supposing_ I
changed my plans--would Mr. Winston be willing to let me keep his car
longer?"

"As much longer as you choose," said I eagerly. "He doesn't want it in
England till next summer. I'm certain of that."

"Well, then, I must think it over," she answered. "Oh, it would be
glorious! Yet--I don't know. Anyway, we must take Lady Brighthelmston,
Mr. Winston's mother, a drive on her son's car when we get to Cannes.
She is staying there."

"Oh, is she?" I said aloud. And inwardly I prayed that I might see the
lady in question in private before that invitation was given. But
perhaps she will have flitted. I wonder?

Well, I have given you the principal points of our conversation enough
to show you why I am happy to-night. But if you could have seen me
cutting up the Goddess's _filet mignon_! I could have shed tears of joy
on it.

Now I must be off to my own hotel, and to-morrow I shall be up with the
dawn in search of a mechanic and new parts for the car.

Good-bye, old man. Wish me luck.

Yours ever,
Jack Winston.

MOLLY RANDOLPH TO HER FATHER

Hotel Angst, Bordighera,
_December 25_.

Merry Christmas, my dear Santa Klaus, merry Christmas! This morning I
sent you a long cable, expressing my sentiments. It does seem strange to
think that by this time you have it. A thousand thousand thanks for your
letter and the enclosure at Cannes. You are the dearest Dad!

Our first Christmas apart! and may it be the last. Christmas isn't
Christmas without you and a stocking to hang up, and I'm awfully
homesick. Still, if one can't be spirited away home on a magic carpet,
this is the sweetest place to spend Christmas in you can imagine.

Speaking of magic carpets recalls the _Arabian Nights_, and gives me a
simile. For a whole week I've been realising what Aladdin must have felt
when the Genie took him into the wonderful Cave of Jewels. Oh, the
Riviera! But you know it, dear. You