My Friend the Chauffeur | Page 6

happened. Three ladies have come unexpectedly
to tea."
The round body straightened itself and stood erect. "Monsieur well
knows that there is no tea; neither he nor the other milord ever take
anything but coffee and whisk--"
"Never mind," said I hastily. "There must be tea, because I asked the
ladies to have some, and they have said yes. There must also be lettuce
sandwiches, and cakes, and cream--plenty, lots, heaps, for five people."
"As well ask that serpent of wickedness, your duck, to lay you five
eggs in as many minutes."
"He isn't my duck; he's yours. You won him in a raffle and adopted him.
I suspect it's a physical impossibility for him to lay eggs; but look here,
Félicité, dear, kind, good Félicité, don't go back on me. Man and boy
I've known you these eighteen months, and you've never failed me yet.
Don't fail me now. I depend on you, you know, and you must do
something--anything--for the honour of the house."
"Does Monsieur think I can command tea, cakes, and cream from the
tiles of the kitchen floor?"

"No; but I firmly believe you can evolve them out of your inner
consciousness. You wouldn't have me lose faith in you?"
"No," said Félicité, whose eyes suddenly brightened with the rapt look
of one inspired. "No; I would not have Monsieur lose faith. I will do
what I can, as Monsieur says, for the honour of the house. Let him go
now to his friends, and make his mind easy. In a quarter of an hour, or
twenty minutes at most, he shall have a feef o'clocky for which he need
not blush."
"Angel!" I ejaculated fervently, patting the substantial shoulder, so
much to be depended upon. Then with a buoyant step I hastened round
the house to rejoin the party in the front garden, where, I anxiously
realized, the tables might have been completely turned during my
absence.
Ready to hurl myself into the breach, if there were one, I came round
the corner of the villa, to meet the unexpected. I had left Terry with
three ladies; I found him with seven.
Evidently he had gone into the drawing-room and fetched chairs, for
they were all sitting down, but they were not being sociable. Mrs.
Kidder's round chin was in the air, and she wore an "I'm as good as you
are, if not better" expression. The imps in Beechy's eyes were critically
cataloguing each detail of the strangers' costumes, and Miss Destrey
was interested in the yellow cat, who had come to tell her the tragic tale
of the stolen mouse.
The new arrivals were English. I can't explain exactly how I knew that,
the moment I clapped eyes on them, but I did; and I felt sure their
nearest male relative must have made money in beer, pickles, or it
might have been corsets or soap. They were that kind; and they had a
great many teeth, especially the daughters, who all three looked exactly
thirty, no more and no less, and were apparently pleasantly conscious
of superlative virtue.
I could see the house they lived in, in England. It would be in Surbiton,
of course, with "extensive grounds." There would be a Debrett's

"Peerage," and a Burke's "Landed Gentry," and a volume of "Etiquette
of Smart Society" on the library shelves, if there was nothing else; and
in the basket on the hall table the visiting cards of any titled beings of
the family's acquaintance would invariably rise to the top like cream.
"I understand from your friend that it is your advertisement which
appears in The Riviera Sun to-day," began the Mother, whose aspect
demanded a capital M. "You are Sir Ralph Moray, I believe?"
I acknowledged my identity, and the lady continued: "I am Mrs.
Fox-Porston. You will have heard of my husband, no doubt, and I
daresay we know a great many of the same People at Home." (This
with a dust-brush glance which swept the Americans out of the field.)
"I think it is a very excellent idea of yours, Sir Ralph, to travel about
the Continent on your motor-car with a few congenial companions, and
I have brought my daughters with me to-day in the hope that we may
arrange a delightful little tour which--"
"Ting-a-ling" at the gate bell robbed us of Mrs. Fox-Porston's
remaining hope, and gave us two more visitors.
Little had I known what the consequences of one small, pink
advertisement would be! Apparently it bade fair to let loose upon us,
not the dogs of war, but the whole floating feminine population of the
French Riviera. Something must be done, and done promptly, to stem
the rising tide of ladies, or the Châlet des Pins and Terry and I with it,
would be