“I can’t go in and have lunch alone.  I simply can’t,” I confessed to the young man whose society I had intended to avoid like a pestilence.  “You see, I—­I never—­this is the first time.”

A look of comprehension flashed over his face.

“Yes, I see,” he said.  “Of course, the moment I heard your voice I realized that this wasn’t your sort of work, but I didn’t know you were quite so new to it as all that.  You’ve never taken a meal in the couriers’ room of an hotel?”

“No,” I confessed.  “At the Majestic Palace Lady Kil—­that is, I decided to have everything brought up to my room, there.”

“By Jove, we are a strange pair!  This is my first job, too, and so far I’ve been able to feed where I chose; but that’s too good to last on tour.  One must accommodate oneself to circumstances, and a man easily can.  But you—­I know how you feel.  However, it’s the first step that costs.  Do you mind much?”

“It’s the stepping in alone that costs the most,” I said.

“Well, I’m only too delighted if I can be of the least use.  Let the car rip!  I’ll see to her afterward.  Now I’m going to take care of you.  You need it more than she does.”

What would Lady Kilmarny have said if she had heard my deliberate encouragement of the chauffeur, and his reckless response?  What would she have thought if she could have seen us walking into the couriers’ dining-room, side by side, as if we had been friends for as many years as we’d really been acquaintances for minutes, leaving the car he was paid to cherish in his bosom sulking alone!

That sweet lady’s face, surprised and reproachful, rose before my eyes, but I had no regrets.  And instead of trembling with apprehension when I saw that the couriers’ room was empty, I rejoiced in the prospect of lunching alone with the redoubtable chauffeur.

It was too early for the regular feeding hour of the pensionnaires, maids, and valets, and we sat down opposite each other at the end of a long table.  A bored young waiter, with little to hope for in the way of pourboires, ambled off in quest of our food.  I began to unfasten my head covering, and after a search for various fugitive pins I emerged from obscurity, like the moon from behind a cloud.

With a sigh of relief, I smiled at my companion; and it was only his expression of surprise which reminded me that he had been seeing me “as through a glass darkly.”

I suppose, unless you are a sort of Sherlock Holmes of physiognomy, you can’t map out a woman’s face by a mere glimpse of eyes through a triangular bit of talc, already somewhat damaged by exposure to sun and wind.

It mayn’t be good manners to look a gift motor-veil in the talc, but I must admit that, glad as I was of its protection, mine was somewhat the worse for certain bubbles, cracks, and speckles; so whether or no Mr. Bane or Dane may combine the science of chauffeuring with that of physiognomy, it’s certain that he had the air of being taken aback.