There never had been anything done to that sedate limousine quite as this was done. Even the preoccupied girl looked on in fascination at a rapidity of unwasted movement suggesting a conjuring feat. "By George!" exclaimed her escort. "A splendid man you've got there! Really, a splendid chauffeur, you know." The driver smiled with a gleam of irony, but disregarded the comment. "Would you like to get into your car?" he asked the girl. "You will be able to start very soon." "I see that," she acknowledged gratefully. "Thank you; I would rather wait here." "Is your chauffeur trustworthy?" "Oh, yes; he has been in my uncle's employ for three years. But he was never before out here, in this place." There was a pause, filled by the soft monotone of insults drifting from the side of the limousine, for Rupert talked while he worked and his fellow-worker did not please him. "Wrench, baby hippo! Oh, look behind you where you put it--you need a memory course. You ought to be passing spools to a lady with a sewing-machine. Did you ever see a motor-car before? There, pump her up, do." He rose, drew out his watch and glanced at it. "Five minutes; I'll have to beat that day after to-morrow." The driver looked over at him and their eyes laughed together. Now, for the first time, the girl noticed that across the shoulders of both men's jerseys ran in silver letters the name of a famous foreign automobile. "I am very grateful, indeed," she said bravely and graciously. "I wish I could say more, or say it better. The journey will be short, now." But all her dignity could not check the frightened shrinking of her glance, first toward the interior of the limousine and then toward the man who was to enter there with her. And the driver of the gray machine saw it. "We have done very little," he returned. "May I put you in your car?" The chauffeur was gathering his tools, speechlessly outraged, and making ready to start. Seated among the rugs and cushions, under the light of the luxurious car, the girl deliberately drew off her glove and held out her small uncovered hand to the driver of the gray machine. "Thank you," she said again, meeting his eyes with her own, whose darkness contrasted oddly with the blonde curls clustered under her hood. "You are not afraid to drive into the city alone?" he asked. "Alone! Why, my cousin--" "Your cousin is going to stay with me." She flung back her head; amazement, question, relief struggled over her sensitive face, and finally melted into irrepressible mirth under the fine amusement of his regard. "You are clever--and kind, to do that! No, I am not afraid." He closed the door. "Take your mistress home," he bade the chauffeur. "Crank for him, Rupert." "Why, why--" stammered the limousine's other passenger, turning as the motor started. No one heeded him.