off, and overtook the fair Virginia and Miss Evesham, footing it there on some errand of Mrs. MacGill's. I slowed down as I got near, but I soon saw Miss Pomeroy intended me to stop; there's no uncertainty about any of her desires.

'Now, Sir Archibald,' said she with a straight look which made me understand that obedience was my rôle, 'I know what you're going to do this very minute. Miss Evesham's neuralgia is so bad that she can scarcely see, and you've got to take her right along in your motor to the Unicorn Inn, and help choose a pony for Mrs. MacGill. Just a man's job—you'd love doing it, I should think.'

I wanted to hum and haw a bit, but she didn't give me the chance. She pulled open the door behind. 'Get in quick!' she said to the companion. 'Quick, quick! a motor puff-puffing this way always makes me think it's in a desperate hurry and won't wait!'

I, however, was not in such a hurry this time, though there's nothing I hate more, as a rule, than wasting motor power standing still.

'What are you going to do, Miss Pomeroy?' I shouted above the throbbing and shaking of the machine.

'Going right home to my mother,' she replied. 'It's about time, too.'

'No, you don't,' thought I, 'and leave me saddled with the companion.' For if you must have female society, you may as well have it good-looking when you are about it.

'Won't you do me the pleasure of taking a ride too?' I asked politely. I knew perfectly well she was dying for a ride in the motor, and I had turned a deaf ear to dozens of hints. But now that she wanted to do the other woman a good turn and walk home herself, nothing would content me but to have her in the motor. I know how inconvenient it is to be good-natured and unselfish. I am obliged to be both so often, against my natural inclinations.

Miss Virginia's eyes gave a sparkle, but she hesitated a moment.

'The front seat's much the jolliest,' I remarked, 'and it's very good going—no end of a surface.' She gave a jump and was up beside me in half a second, and we were off.

By Jove—that was a good bit of going! The road was clear, the surface like velvet. I took every bit out of the motor that was in it, and we went the pace and no mistake. Miss Virginia was as pleased as Punch, I could see. She had to hold on her hat with both hands, and her cheeks and lips were as red as roses; the ribbons flew out from her neck, and flapped across my face, which was a nuisance, of course; they had the faint scent of some flower or other; I hate smells, as a rule, but this was not strong enough to be bad. We got down at the Unicorn, and though I said I knew nothing whatever about ponies, I had to look through the stables with the hostler, and choose a beast and a trap for Mrs. MacGill. There was only one of each, so the choice was not difficult. The two girls drove home in the turnout. I thought it was time to disappear.

CECILIA EVESHAM

Grey Tor Inn,
Thursday

I have had a miserable thirty-six hours. Mrs. MacGill has been ill again—or has believed that she is ill again. I do not think there is much wrong with her, but the over-sympathetic Mrs. Pomeroy went on describing symptoms to her till she became quite nervous and went to bed, demanding that a doctor be sent for. This was no easy matter, but at last a callow medical fledgling was dug out somewhere, who was ready to agree with all I said to him.

'Suggest fresh air and exercise to Mrs. MacGill,' I said, 'for she considers the one poisonous, the other almost a crime, and knitting the only legitimate form of amusement.'

So he recommended air and exercise—driving exercise by preference.

'I used to like the donkey-chairs at Tunbridge Wells,' Mrs. MacGill responded, 'but horses go so rapidly.'

However, after the doctor had gone she began to consider his advice.

'Shall I go to the stables and arrange for you to have a drive this afternoon?' I asked.

She demurred, for she never can make up her mind about anything.

'I can't decide just now,' she hesitated. 'I'll think it over.'

I took up the guide-book, and was allowed to read its thrilling pages for some ten minutes. Then Mrs. MacGill called me again.

'Perhaps if you go and select a very quiet horse we might have a drive in the afternoon,' she said.

I went and saw the horse, and arranged for the drive, then returned to tell Mrs. MacGill of the arrangement. She was not pleased. Had I said that perhaps we would drive out at three o'clock, it would have been more to her mind.

'Go back and tell the man that perhaps we'll go,' she said.

'But perhaps some one else will take out the horse, in that case,' I suggested, cross and weary with her fidgeting. All the rest of the forenoon was one long vacillation: she would go, or she would not go; it would rain, or it would not rain; she would countermand the carriage or she would order it. But by three o'clock the sun was shining, so I got her bonneted and cloaked and led her down to the hall. The motor had come round at the same moment with our carriage. Its owner was looking it over before he made a start, and I was not surprised to see that Miss Virginia Pomeroy was also at the door, and that she showed great interest in the tires of the motor. Had I been that young man I must have asked her to drive with me there and then, she looked so delightful; but he is rather a phlegmatic creature, surely, for he didn't seem to think of it. Just as we were preparing to step into the carriage, the motor gave out a great puff of steam, and the horse in our vehicle sprang up in the shafts and took a shy to one side. It was easily quieted down, but of course the incident was more than enough for Mrs. MacGill.

'Take it away,' she said to the driver. 'I won't endanger my life with such an animal—brown horses are always wild, and so are black ones.'

It was vain for me to argue; she just turned away and walked upstairs again, I following to take off her bonnet and cloak, and supply her again with her knitting. So there was an end of the carriage exercise, it seemed.

But there's a curious boring pertinacity in the creature, for after we had sat in silence for about ten minutes she remarked:—

'Cecilia, the doctor said I was to have carriage exercise—Don't you think I could get a donkey-chair?'

'No,' I replied quite curtly. 'Donkey-chairs do not grow on Dartmoor.'

She never saw that I was provoked, and perhaps it was just as well.

'No,' she said after a pause for reflection. 'No, I dare say they do not, but don't you think if you walked to Stoke Babbage you might be able to get one for me?'

'I might be able to get a pony chaise and a quiet pony,' I answered, scenting the possibility of a five-mile walk that would give me an hour or two of peace.

'Well, will you go and try if you can get one?' she asked.

'If you don't mind being left alone for a few hours, I'll do what I can,' I said. She was beginning to object, when Virginia appeared, leading in her mother.

'Here's my mother come to keep you company, Mrs. MacGill,' she explained. 'She wishes to hear all about your chill, from the first shiver right on to the last cough.' She placed Mrs. Pomeroy in an armchair, and fairly drove me out of the room before her, pushing me with both hands.

'Come! Run! Fly! Escape!' she cried. 'You are