“But only think, dad, he was my pet steward coming home,” declared his lively daughter; “on rough days he brought me chicken broth on deck, and was _so_ sympathetic--just a ministering angel! Toby will tell you what a treasure he was, too. He always had a match on him, always knew the time, and the run, and was the best hand to tuck a rug round me I _ever_ knew!” Long before the conclusion of this superb eulogy, (delivered in a high-pitched voice from the steps), its subject had found a refuge in the yard. “Isn’t it extraordinary how one comes across people?” continued Joey, as she led Aurea indoors. “Fancy your chauffeur being one of the stewards on the _Anaconda_!” “What’s that you say about my chauffeur?” demanded Miss Parrett, with arrogant solemnity, who had been a disapproving witness of the recent scene. (She considered Joey Waring a shockingly fast, vulgar little person, who absorbed far too much of the general conversation and attention; but as she was the wife of a wealthy man, and the sister of a notable _parti_, she dissembled her dislike, or believed she did. But Joey was aware that the eldest “Polly” considered her a terribly inferior, frivolous sort of person.) “I’m only saying how odd it is to find a steward turned into a chauffeur! I do hope he is experienced, dear Miss Parrett, and that he won’t bring you or the car to grief. I call him quite dangerously good-looking, don’t you?” To this preposterous question Miss Parrett made no reply, merely squeezed up her eyes, tossed her head, and as she followed Mrs. Woolcock into the drawing-room her feathers were still quivering. After tea Mrs. Waring carried Aurea off to her room to enjoy a good gossip, and to exhibit some of the treasures she had collected during her recent trip. Joey and her husband were enterprising travellers; he, a big, silent man--the opposite of his lively little wife--was also a mighty sportsman. “Now, let me hear what you have been doing with yourself, Aurea,” said the lady, after a long and animated description of her own experiences in the West Indies and Buenos Ayres. “You have been up in town, I know. Do tell me all about your love-affairs--I know they are legion. Do confide in little Joey!” “My love-affairs!” and the girl laughed. “I have none; and if I had, Joey, you are about the worst confidante I could find. All particulars would be given out no later than at dinner to-night, and you’d put my most heart-breaking experience in such a light, that every one would be shrieking with laughter.” “Well, anyway, you are heart-whole so far, eh?” “Yes; I think I may admit that.” “And so your Aunt Bella has set up a motor; what possessed her?” And she stared into the girl’s face, with a pair of knowing, light grey eyes. “She’s as nervous as a cat!” “Aunt Bella was possessed by the spirit of contradiction. And, talking of the car, do tell me some more about the chauffeur.”