Daphne liked to be talked to like this. In the first place, it removed the uncomfortable and humiliating sensation that she was a child in her husband's eyes; and in the second, it adjusted her sense of proportion as regards the male sex. Obviously, with all these dull but weighty matters to occupy him, a man could not be expected to set such store by conjugal unity as his wife, who had little else to think of. "Perhaps I have been a little fool," she philosophised. "After all, a man doesn't in the least realise how a woman----" "What are you going to do to-day?" asked her husband. "This afternoon I am going over to Croxley Dene to play tennis." "Anything this morning?" "I am going to order the motor for twelve o'clock"--rather reluctantly. "I suppose Vick will be back from Kilchester." "Oh, yes. Are you going out to lunch somewhere?" "N-no." "Just a drive?" "Yes. The fact is," said poor Daphne, hating herself for feeling like a child detected in a fault, "I am going to try my hand at driving the motor myself." There was a pause, and Juggernaut continued to gaze out of the window, while Daphne pleated the table-cloth. Presently the hateful expected words came. "I would rather you didn't." Daphne rose suddenly to her feet. Her face was aflame, and all her good resolutions had vanished. She had always longed to drive the big car, her appetite having been whetted by occasional experiments upon the property--usually small, easily handled vehicles--of long-suffering friends. She had broached the subject more than once, but had found her husband curiously vague as regards permission. Usually it was "yes" or "no" with him. This morning, tired of the humiliation of constantly asking for leave, she had decided to give orders on her own account. And but for Juggernaut's unlucky question she would have achieved her purpose and settled accounts afterwards--a very different thing from asking leave first, as every child knows. "And why?" she asked, with suspicious calmness. "Well, for one thing, I don't think a lady should be seen driving a great covered-in limousine car. You wouldn't go out on the box seat of a brougham, would you? As a matter of fact, if you will have patience for a week or two----" "Yes, I know!" broke in Daphne passionately. "If I have patience for a week or two, and am a good little girl, and order the meals punctually in the meanwhile, you will perhaps take me for a run one afternoon, and let me hold the wheel while you sit beside me with the second speed in. Thank you! _Good_ morning!" She pushed back her chair, whirled round with a vehement swirl of her tweed skirt, and left the room. Juggernaut continued to finger a typewritten letter which he had just taken from his pocket. It bore the address of a firm of motor-makers, and said--