On the whole, reckoning Grand Opera tickets and dinners, she did very well out of it.
"Is it not ?" said Mrs.Rasselyer-Brown.

"So different from our men.

I felt so ashamed of my chauffeur, our new man, you know; he seemed such a contrast beside Ram Spudd.

The rude way in which the opened the door, and the rude way in which he climbed on to his own seat, and the _rudeness_ with which he turned on the power--I felt positively ashamed.

And he so managed it--I am sure he did it on purpose--that the car splashed a lot of mud over Mr.Spudd as it started." Yet, oddly enough, the opinion of other people on this new chauffeur, that of Miss Dulphemia Rasselyer-Brown herself, for example, to whose service he was specially attached, was very different.
The great recommendation of him in the eyes of Miss Dulphemia and her friends, and the thing that gave him a touch of mystery was--and what higher qualification can a chauffeur want ?--that he didn't look like a chauffeur at all.
"My dear Dulphie," whispered Miss Philippa Furlong, the rector's sister (who was at that moment Dulphemia's second self), as they sat behind the new chauffeur, "don't tell me that he is a chauffeur, because he _isn't_.