The man would bundle his master's knees in a rug and take the seat at the chauffeur's side, and from there direct the journey.
Generally they drove through the park, up and down Riverside, and back to the hotel in time for tea.

Mr.Thornden drank tea for breakfast along with his bacon and eggs, and at luncheon with his lamb or mutton chops, and at five o'clock with especially baked muffins and apple-tarts.
Mr.Thornden never gave orders personally; his man always attended to that.

The master would, early each morning, outline the day's work, and the man would see to it that these instructions were fulfilled to the letter.

He was an excellent servant, by the way, light of foot, low of voice, serious of face, with a pair of eyes which I may liken to nothing so well as to a set of acetylene blow-pipes--bored right through you.
The master was middle-aged, about the same height and weight as his valet.

He wore a full dark beard, something after the style of the early eighties of last century.