As they came back through the drawing-room, she said to her mother: "Well, Mamma, the car's ready, I believe.

Won't you join us in a little run round town ?" "When I want to take a run into the Other World in one of those infernal machines of yours, Brenda," said her mother, with a mild touch of sarcasm in her tone, "I'll ask you to let me come.

This afternoon I feel just a little bit too comfortable for a journey like that." "It's a curious thing," said Brenda, as they were going down in the lift, "Mamma's as healthy a woman as ever lived, and she's American too, and yet I believe she'd as soon get on top of a broncho as into an automobile." The car was waiting for them in the courtyard under the glass awning.

A smart-looking young _chauffeur_ in orthodox costume touched his cap and set the engine going.

The gold-laced porters handed them into the two front seats, and the _chauffeur_ effaced himself in the _tonneau_.