It was dark by the time that the united efforts of Pip and the blacksmith restored the car to a state of kinetic energy, and it was more than two hours before Pip called at the "George" for his passengers. They climbed swiftly into the tonneau, and the car proceeded on its way. His charges were unusually silent, and Pip, turning suddenly to ask for a direction, surprised the Honourable in the act of kissing the Principal Boy's hands. The Honourable departed next morning for London. In the afternoon the car was ordered round, and Miss Lottie announced her intention of receiving a driving-lesson. Pip instructed her to the best of his ability, and by constant vigilance and the occasional intervention of Providence succeeded in indefinitely prolonging the span of life of two old women, one cow, seven children, and innumerable cocks and hens. Presently it began to rain. "Never mind about putting up the hood, Armstrong," said Lottie. "It's a rotten affair--keeps no rain out. Let's run under those thick trees over there." Pip took the wheel, and the car slid up a narrow lane and came to anchor under the thickest part of an arching grove of chestnuts. "There," said the Principal Boy, removing her gloves, "I feel regularly done up. My hands are all of a shake after that beastly wheel. Am I improving?" "You are a good deal steadier than you were--Miss," said Pip. "That's all right. Much obliged for your help. You're a good sort, Armstrong." "Armstrong" turned extremely pink. "Look here," continued Lottie breezily, "I'm tired of calling you Armstrong. What's your name?" "Er--John." "Right-o! I shall call you Jack. And now, Jack, I want to ask you something. What are you doing driving a motor-car?" "Jack" regarded his mistress with some apprehension. "Why shouldn't I drive a motor-car?" he asked, rather defiantly. "Why? Because you're a gentleman. Bless you, dear boy, do you think I didn't spot that long ago? What was it--debts?" "Debts" seemed to meet the requirements of the situation without unduly straining the truth, so Pip nodded. "Ah!" said Miss Lottingar sympathetically; "I know. We have been that way all our lives in our family." Pip thought of Broadoak Manor and its present proprietor, and felt no surprise. "Dad has lived on his wits ever since I can remember," continued Miss Lottingar. "I suppose you see what sort of a customer he is?" she added, in a sudden burst of candour. Pip nodded again. "I think I do," he said. "He's a game old chap, is Dad," continued the dutiful daughter, "but he's on the lowest peg at present. However, I landed the Honourable last night, so things ought to look up now." Pip, who regarded the love of a man for a maid as something rather more sacred than honour itself, fairly gasped at this offhand remark. "You mean--you are engaged to him?" "Yes," said the Principal Boy in a matter-of-fact tone. "He asked me last night at the 'George,' when you were tinkering at the car."