w's headgear. She had scarcely strength
to lift her head. Mr. Jornicroft had made luxurious arrangements for her
comfort--an ambulance carriage from St. John's Wood, a special invalid
compartment in the train; but at the station, as at Doria's wedding,
Jaffery took command. It was his great arms that lifted her
feather-weight with extraordinary sureness and gentleness from the
carriage, carried her across the platform and deposited her tenderly on
her couch in the compartment. Touched by his solicitude she thanked him
with much graciousness. He bent over her--we were standing at the door
and could not choose but hear:

"Don't you remember what I said the first day I met you?"

"Yes."

"It stands, my dear; and more than that." He paused for a second and
took her thin hand. "And don't you worry about that book. You get well
and strong."

He kissed her hand and spoiled the gallantry by squeezing her
shoulder--half her little body it seemed to be--and emerging from the
compartment joined us on the platform. He put a great finger on the arm
of the rubicund, thickset, black-moustached Jornicroft.

"I think I'll come with you as far as Paris," said he. "I'll get into a
smoker somewhere or the other."

"But, my dear sir"--exclaimed Mr. Jornicroft in some amazement--"it's
awfully kind, but why should you?"

"Mrs. Boldero has got to be carried. I didn't realise it. She can't put
her feet to the ground. Some one has got to lift her at every stage of
the journey. And I'm not going to let any damned clumsy fellow handle
her. I'll see her into the Nice train to-morrow night--perhaps I'll go
on to Nice with you and fix her up in the hotel. As a matter of fact, I
will. I shan't worry you. You won't see me, except at the right time.
Don't be afraid."

Mr. Jornicroft, most methodical of Britons, gasped. So, I must confess,
did Barbara and I. When Jaffery met us at the station he had no more
intention of escorting Doria to Nice than we had ourselves.

"I can't permit it--it's too kind--there's no necessity--we'll get on
all right!" spluttered Mr. Jornicroft.

"You won't. She has got to be carried. You're not going to take any
risks."

"But, my dear fellow--it's absurd--you haven't any luggage."

"Luggage?" He looked at Mr. Jornicroft as if he had suggested the
impossibility of going abroad without a motor veil or the Encyclopaedia
Britannica. "What the blazes has luggage got to do with it?" His roar
could be heard above th