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Then, as the humor of the situation began to appeal to him, so did the good looks of the girl. "Really," he began. "You see I " "Don't talk, get under way!" commanded Jeannette. "Quick! Her ladyship has altered her mind about going out. You've got to take me to Sapworth Hall. It's thirty miles. I want to be there by lunch-time. Do you know the way?" "I I think so," stammered Chilminster.
Bareheaded, gaiterless, minus his driving coat, very self-contained and eminently aristocratic, the supposed motor-man advanced into the room. "You see, you told me to take the car round to the stables," he proceeded, with a touch of apology in his tone. "You you are the Earl of Chilminster?" she gasped. "Of Sapworth Hall, Wilts," he augmented, like one who quotes.
"I own up I don't see just how, but there wasn't much time, and it was the best I could do." Lady Hartley slowly reread the incriminating paragraph: "A marriage has been arranged, and will shortly take place between the Earl of Chilminster, of Sapworth Hall, Wilts, and Miss Jeannette L. Urmy, of Boston, Massachusetts."
"Dare I? I can set things straight at once if I do. Persis will be wild with me for going off without a word, but I'll I'll chance it!" She ran into the hall, slipped into her motoring coat, and, throwing discretion to the winds, walked out to the front of the house and quickly up to the car. "How soon can you drive me to Sapworth Hall?" she asked, getting in and pulling the rug around her.
It was too late to turn back now. The thing had to be seen through. Besides, he could not help feeling a curiosity to know what was in his passenger's mind, and to discover her bewildering plan of action. Neither spoke for the rest of the journey, and at length the car passed through the lodge gates, swept up the drive, and stopped at the entrance to Sapworth Hall. Jeannette got out.
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