d not mixed up a single
syllable.

The young man burst out laughing. "Where's your nurse?" he asked.

"In London," said Rosemary. "She isn't my nurse any more."

"Well, your mother--"

"She isn't--"

"What? Are you going to tell me she isn't your mother any more? Are you
out 'on your own,' little lady?"

"I don't know what that is; and my mother's my mother just as usual,
thank you," said Rosemary, with dignity. "She's quite well. But she
doesn't know I came out to look for you."

"Oh, doesn't she?" echoed the young man in the car. "Then don't you
think the best thing you can do is to let me take you back to her?"

"She won't be home yet, not till it's dark, I expect," said the child.

"Oh, that's a long time yet. Well, since you know me, wouldn't you like
to climb in, and have a little run?"

"May I, truly and really?" The little face grew pink with joy.

"Truly and really--if you're not afraid."

"What should I be afraid of?" Rosemary asked.

"I was talking nonsense. Get down, Paul, and put her into the tonneau.
You'd better sit by her, perhaps."

The chauffeur proceeded to obey, but when the child found herself being
tucked into a back seat of the car, she gave a little protesting cry.
"Oh, can't I sit in front with you?"

"Of course you can, if you like. Paul, wrap her up well in the rug. Now,
little one, we're going to start. I won't take you too fast."

He turned the car, and passing the Casino drove up the hill, taking the
direction of Mentone, when he had reached the top. He had not been over
this road before, as he had arrived by way of Nice yesterday; but he had
studied road maps, and knew both how and where he wished to go.

"Now," said he, driving carefully, "how do you like it?"

"Oh, it's wonderful!" answered Rosemary, with a rapt smile on her rosy
face.

"Have you ever motored before?"

She shook her head. "Never."

"Brave Baby."

"I don't usually care to be called a baby," she remarked. "But I don't
mind from you."

"I'm especially favoured, it seems," said the young man. "Tell me how
you happen to know me? I can't think, I must confess, unless it was on
shipboard--"

"There! I knew perfectly well it was you!" broke in Rosemary with a look
of rapture. "You _were_ on a ship, and you were lost at sea. But you're
found again now, because it's Christmas Eve."

"I wasn't lost at sea, though, or I shouldn't be here with you," said
Hugh Egerton. He glanced rather wistfully in a