The Chauffeur and the Chaperon

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The Chauffeur and the Chaperon, by

C. N. Williamson and A. M. Williamson This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: The Chauffeur and the Chaperon
Author: C. N. Williamson A. M. Williamson
Illustrator: Karl Anderson
Release Date: May 19, 2007 [EBook #21529]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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THE CHAUFFEUR AND THE CHAPERON
OTHER BOOKS BY C. N. AND A. M. WILLIAMSON
My Friend the Chauffeur, Lady Betty Across the Water, Rosemary in Search of a Father, Princess Virginia, The Car of Destiny, The Princess Passes, The Lightning Conductor

THE CHAUFFEUR AND THE CHAPERON
BY
C. N. and A. M. Williamson
ILLUSTRATIONS BY KARL ANDERSON
NEW YORK
THE McCLURE COMPANY
MCMVIII
Copyright, 1907, 1908, by The McClure Company
Copyright, 1906, by C. N. and A. M. Williamson
TO
MR. G. VAN DER POT
PRESIDENT OF THE ROTTERDAM SAILING AND ROWING CLUB WHOSE KIND AND NEVER-FAILING HELP ADDED TENFOLD TO THE PLEASURES OF OUR VOYAGE THROUGH DELIGHTFUL DUTCH WATERWAYS WE DEDICATE
THE STORY OF THE TOUR

CONTENTS
NELL VAN BUREN'S POINT OF VIEW
CHAPTER PAGE
I. 3
II. 12
III. 23
IV. 36
V. 45
VI. 63
VII. 72
RUDOLPH BREDERODE'S POINT OF VIEW
VIII. 87
IX. 108
X. 118
XI. 134
XII. 147
XIII. 160
XIV. 170
XV. 178
XVI. 183
XVII. 190
XVIII. 200
XIX. 208
XX. 222
PHYLLIS RIVERS' POINT OF VIEW
CHAPTER PAGE
XXI. 235
XXII. 243
XXIII. 260
XXIV. 270
XXV. 279
XXVI. 284
RONALD LESTER STARR'S POINT OF VIEW
XXVII. 301
XXVIII. 314
XXIX. 328
XXX. 339
XXXI. 348
XXXII. 353
XXXIII. 365
XXXIV. 369
XXXV. 384
XXXVI. 389
XXXVII. 402

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Facing She absentmindedly dropped in three, while Page talking to Starr . . . . 168
We were called upon to part with almost all the gulden. . . . . . 20
"You need have no hesitation in giving the boat to me" . . . . . 24
We both exclaimed, "Oh, are you here?". . 42
There was a sudden stir in the garden . . 96
"It's black magic," said Aunt Fay . . 154
We stopped at Haarlem only long enough to do reverence to Franz Hals . . . 168
A couple of great yellow dogs, drawing a cart, swore canine oaths against the car . 196
Starr induced them to stand for him, though they were reluctant and self-conscious 216
I was glad to stoop down and pat Tibe . . 240
Solemn men inspecting burning globes, and bargaining with their possessors . 254
She looked, for all the world, like a beautiful Frisian girl . . . . . 288
It was Phyllis who shone at Liliendaal . 320
"Well--have I pleased you?" Freule Menela asked at last . . . . . 344
It was a ring for a lover to offer to his lady 352
At his present rate he would reach us in about two minutes . . . . . 388
THE CHAUFFEUR AND THE CHAPERON
NELL VAN BUREN'S POINT OF VIEW

I
Sometimes I think that having a bath is the nicest part of the day, especially if you take too long over it, when you ought to be hurrying.
Phyllis and I (Phil is my stepsister, though she is the most English creature alive) have no proper bath-room in our flat. What can you expect for forty pounds a year, even at Clapham? But we have a fitted-up arrangement in the box-room, and it has never exploded yet. Phyllis allows herself ten minutes for her bath every morning, just as she allows herself five minutes for her prayers, six to do her hair, and four for everything else, except when she wears laced-up boots; but then, she has principles, and I have none; at least, I have no maxims. And this morning, just because there were lots of things to do, I was luxuriating in the tub, thinking cool, delicious thoughts.
As a general rule, when you paint glorious pictures for yourself of your future as you would like it to be, it clouds your existence with gray afterwards, because the reality is duller by contrast; but it was different this morning. I had stopped awake all night thinking the same things, and I was no more tired of the thoughts now than when I first began.
I lay with my eyes shut, sniffing Eau de Cologne (I'd poured in a bottleful for a kind of libation, because I could afford to be extravagant), and planning what a delightful future we would have.
"I should love to chop up Phil's type-writer and burn the remains," I said to myself; "but she's much more likely to put it away in lavender, or give it to the next-door-girl with the snub nose. Anyhow, I shall never have to write another serial story for Queen-Woman, or The Fireside Lamp, or any of the other horrors. Oh the joy of not being forced to create villains, only to crush them