side-wise. Or would that be blackmail?)

Silently the chauffeur took the cup from my frightened fingers, and
marched off with it into the hotel, without a "by your leave" or "with
your leave."

"My word, your chauffeur might have better manners!" grumbled Lady
Turnour to Sir Samuel, as she climbed into the car; but there was no
scolding when the rude young man came briskly back, looking supremely
unconscious of having given offence.

"Now we must make good time to Marseilles, if we're to get there for
dinner," he said, when he had started the car, and taken his place. "We
shall stop there to-night, or rather, just outside the town, in one of
the nicest hotels on earth, as you will see."

"Whose choice?" I asked.

"Mine," he laughed, "but I don't think Sir Samuel knows that!"

Down to Hyères we floated again, on the wings of the Aigle, I looking
longingly across the valley where the old town climbed a citadeled
hill, and lay down at the foot of a sturdy though crumbling castle. If
this were _really_ my own tour, as I am trying to play it is, I would
have commanded a long stop at Costebelle, to make explorations of the
region round about. I can imagine no greater joy than to be able to stay
at beautiful places as long as one wished, and to keep on doing
beautiful things till one tired of doing them.

But life is a good deal like a big busybody of a policeman, continually