"Pr'aps the dear What-Price-Vaughans," retorted the comedienne, "can get along with their delightful style of bathroom?" "Oh, do tell us," implored the girl with the black plait, "what's the matter with that?" "The bath, Kiddy? Absolutely imposs!" decreed London's Love. "Water comes in at the rate of a South-Eastern Dead-Stop. Turn one tap on and you turn the other off. Not to speak of there only being one bath, and that five sizes too small, dear. The Not-at-Any-Price-Vaughans must be greyhound built for slimness, if you ask me. It don't seem to fit our shrinking Violet, as you can imagine. Why, look at her!" Quite an unnecessary request, as the fascinated, horrified eyes of the whole party had not yet left her sumptuous and bedizened person. "Call it a bath?" she concluded, with her largest and most unabashedly vulgar wink. "I'd call it a----" We weren't privileged to hear what she could call it, for at this moment the lady with the very towny hat rose with remarkable suddenness, and asked in a concise and carrying voice that her man might be told to bring round Miss Davis's car. I slipped out to the kitchen and to Miss Davis's man, who, as I expected, had finished an excellent tea and the subjugation of cook at the same time. "Your mistress would like the car round at once, please," I said, with a frantic effort not to smile as I caught the mischievous, black-framed, blue eyes of the Honourable Jim Burke. He rose. "Good afternoon, ma'am, and thank you for one of the most splendid teas I've ever had in my life," he said in that flattering voice of his to cook, as she bustled out, beaming upon him as she went into the scullery. "Good afternoon, Miss Smith"--to me. "You've never shaken hands with me yet. But I suppose this is scarcely the moment to remind you, when I've taken on a job several pegs below what I was when I saw you last----" Of course, at that I had to give him my hand. I said: "But why are you Miss Davis's chauffeur?" "Because I couldn't get a job with Miss Million," he told me simply. "She hasn't got a car of her own yet. Not that she'd have me, in any case--a man she'd found out deceiving her about her own relatives!" "But why 'the job,' anyhow?" "I must earn my living--honestly if possible," said the Honourable Jim with his wickedest twinkle. "Also I'd made up my mind a little change of air in Wales would do me good just now, and I'd no friends who happened to be coming to these parts. It was these parts I'd set my heart on. "The mountain scenery! Can you beat it? And when I saw the advertisement of that old trout upstairs there--I mean that elegant maiden lady with private means and a nice house and a car of her own--I jumped at answering it. The country round about is so romantic. That drew me, Miss Lovelace.... Well, I suppose I must be tooting her home." He turned to the back entrance. Then he turned to me once more and launched his most audacious bit of nonsense yet.