am just learning to drive," said Robert, who wore a motoring-cap
which was particularly becoming. "I do not know much about automobiles
yet; soon I shall buy one. It is rowing I like best, and skating in
winter, though I have not time to amuse myself except at the end of
weeks, for I am manager of my poor father's factory. But my fiancee
likes the automobile, and to please her I am learning with my friend's
car."

"That is good of you," said Phyllis.

"Yes, it is," he replied gravely. "Would you that I drive or the
chauffeur? He has more experience."

I left the decision to Phil, as she is the timid one, but to my surprise
she answered----

"Oh, you, of course."

Cousin Robert looked pleased. "Are you not afraid?" he inquired,
beaming.

"Ye--es, I am afraid, for I've never been before. But I shall be less
afraid with you than with him." And she glanced at a weedy youth who was
pouring oil from a long-nosed tin into something obscure.

"Will you sit in front by my side?" he asked. And it was only after Phil
had accepted the invitation that he remembered to hope I wouldn't mind
the chauffeur being in the _tonneau_ with me. "It must have been one of
you," he added, "and you and I are cousins."

"Twice removed," I murmured; but he was helping Phil into the car,
and did not hear.

It was a wild moment when we started. But it would have looked odd to
cling to the chauffeur for protection, so I did nothing; and it calmed
me to see how Phyllis bore herself. She didn't even grasp the arm of the
seat; she merely gazed up into Cousin Robert's face with a sweetly
feminine look, which said, "My one hope is in you, but I trust you
utterly." It was enough to melt the heart of a stone giant, even when
seen through goggles. I had an idea that this giant was not made of
stone, and I wondered what the fiancee of my cousin twice removed was
made of.

After the first thrill of starting, when we seemed to be tearing like a
tailless comet through a very small portion of space not designed to
hold comets, I grew happy, though far from tranquil. I can't imagine
people ever feeling really tranquil in an automobile, and I don't
believe they do, though they may pretend. I'm sure I should not, even if
I became a professional chauffeur, which heaven forbid. But part of the
enjoyment came through not feeling tranquil. There was a savage joy in
thinking every instant that you were going to be dashed to pieces, or
else that you would das