"Bell 'Ammer is no distance, me lady, an' the car can come back. I shouldden dream o' takin' advantage of an acciden', me lady." Regretting very much that she had never noticed the ex-grocer before, Lady Touchstone sought desperately to pull the position round. "Mr. Bumble," she said, "we cannot use your car without you. That we do not know one another is my fault. Please get in. I want to tell you how very sorry we are about your case." Again Mr. Bumble bowed. "Your ladyship is most kind. If Mrs. Bumble was 'ere, it'd be different.... But we're both of us proud, me lady, fer you to 'ave the car. An'--an' please don' put yerself out, m'm. I'm in no 'urry." The quiet determination of his tone was unmistakable. The little man was clearly stoutly resolved not to improve an acquaintance which his wife did not share. Wealth had not clouded his memory nor corrupted his simple heart. Lady Touchstone hauled down her flag. "You're one of the old school, Mr. Bumble," she said, "so we won't argue. Will you tell Mrs. Bumble that, if Thursday's quite convenient, we shall call at The Shrubbery and ask her to give us some tea?" And Valerie put out her hand. "Good-bye for the present," she said. "Thank you so very much." The next moment they were gone. Hat still in hand, the ex-grocer looked after the car. "Lady by name an' lady by nature," he said softly. Then he put on his hat and turned to Mason. "'Ave a cigar, boy. I 'ate smokin' alone." As they swept out of sight, Lady Touchstone picked up the speaking tube. "George Alison!" she cried. Up went the chauffeur's head. "Stop the car, please. Valerie and Major Lyveden will change places. We want to discuss the trial." George slowed up with a grin. Jack opened the door for Jill, who descended with an airy nod of greeting which hurt him more than the stoniest disregard. With her head high, she stepped to the seat he had left. As he was closing the high side door upon her, her fur coat intervened, and Jack set it gently aside. Jill felt the touch, turned, glanced down and twitched the garment away.... Anthony's eyes blazed. A short six inches away, Valerie's blazed back.... On the opposite side of the car George and Lady Touchstone were hanging out of their seats, raving concurrent invective against the Laws of England. For a moment eyes searched eyes steadily. Then, with a faint smile, Anthony leaned forward and kissed the proud red lips. Then he shut the door with infinite care.... Had Miss French's fur coat been less voluminous, the gulf which Error had set between the lovers might have been bridged within the week. But it was a fine wrap, and ample. In an instant the gulf had become a sea of troubles, with the house that Jack had built upon one side, and the castle which Jill had raised upon the other. And, as for a bridge, their labour now was lost that sought to build one. It had become a case for a causeway. As the car slid forward--