He had seen her coming, out of
the, corner of his eye, without disturbing himself.

"How is it that the carriage is not ready to take me to the station?"
asked the mistress.

"I don't know, Madame," answered this personage, condescendingly, without
taking his hat off.

"But where is the coachman who generally drives me?"

"I don't know. If Madame would like to see in the stables--"

And with a careless gesture, the Englishman pointed out to Madame
Desvarennes the magnificent buildings at the end of the courtyard.

The blood rose to the mistress's cheeks; she gave the coachman such a
look that he moved away a little. Then glancing at her watch, she said,
coldly:

"I have only a quarter of an hour before the train leaves, but here are
horses that ought to go well. Jump on the box, my man, you shall drive
me."

The Englishman shook his head.

"Those horses are not for service; they are only for pleasure," he
answered. "I drive the Prince. I don't mind driving the Princess, but I
am not here to drive you, Madame."

And with an insolent gesture, setting his hat firmly on his head, he
turned his back upon the mistress. At the same moment, a sharp stroke
from a light cane made his hat roll on the pavement. And as the
Englishman turned round, red with rage, he found himself face to face
with the Prince, whose approach neither Madame Desvarennes nor he had
heard.

Serge, in an elegant morning suit, was going round his stables when he
had been attracted by this discussion. The Englishman, uneasy, sought to
frame an excuse.

"Hold your tongue!" exclaimed the Prince, sharply, "and go and wait my
orders."

And turning toward the mistress:

"Since this man refuses to drive you, I shall have the pleasure of taking
you to the station myself," he said, with a charming smile.

And as Madame Desvarennes remonstrated,

"Oh! I can drive four-in-hand," he added. "For once in my life that
talent will have been of some use to me. Pray jump in."

And opening the door of the mail-coach he handed her into the vast
carriage. Then, climbing with one bound to the box, he gathered the reins
and, cigar in mouth, with all the coolness of an old coachman, he started
the horses in the presence of all the grooms, and made a perfect
semicircle on the gravel of the courtyard.

The incident was repeated favorably for Serge. It was agreed that he had
behaved like a true nobleman. Micheline was proud of it, and saw in this
act of defer