Part 12 (2/2)
”Nonsense! He's an excellent driver!” declared her father. ”One of the best chauffeurs we've ever had, though he's only a young chap. He's wonderfully intelligent too. I'd trust him with repairs as well as any man at a garage. A civil fellow, too.”
”Yes, his manners are really quite superior,” agreed Mrs. Rogers, stepping on to the balcony and watching the smart, good-looking figure of the young chauffeur, who was opening the bonnet of the car for some last inspection. ”Personally I feel perfectly safe when Johnson is driving me. I'm never nervous in the least!”
”And I'm in such a perpetual panic that I often read so as not to look at the road,” confessed Sheila. ”I do wish you'd ask him to sound his horn oftener in these narrow roads. The banks and hedges are so high, you can't see anything that's coming till it's almost upon you.”
”Well, it certainly might be a wise precaution,” said Major Rogers. ”In motoring you have to guard against the stupidity of other people, and that fellow in the gray two-seater nearly charged straight into us yesterday. A regular road-hog he was!”
If Johnson had hitherto been a little slack in respect of sounding his horn, it was the only fault of which his employers could complain. He kept the fittings of the car at the very zenith in the matter of polish, he was punctuality personified, and most skilful at the tedious business of repairing or changing tires; he rarely spoke addressed, but when questioned he seemed to have a good acquaintance with the country, knew which were the best roads, and what sights were worth visiting in the various places through which they pa.s.sed. All of which are highly desirable qualities in a chauffeur, and a satisfaction to all concerned.
It was the general plan of the holiday to start about ten or eleven o'clock, take a picnic-basket with them, lunch somewhere in the woods, arrive at their next halting-place about three or four, and spend the remainder of the day in sight-seeing, or in Major Rogers' case resting, if he were suffering from a severe attack of pain.
As they motored across Somerset in the direction of Wells, they chose for their mid-day stop a lovely place on the top of a range of low hills. A belt of fir trees edged the roadside, and through these a gate led into a field. As the gate was open they felt licensed to enter, and to encamp upon a sunny bank under a hedge. One of the motor rugs was spread for Major Rogers, and Mrs. Rogers, Sheila, and Carmel sat severally on an air cus.h.i.+on, a tree-stump, and on the gra.s.s. There was a grand view over a slope of cornfields and pastures, and though the sun was warm there was a delicious little breeze to temper the heat. Not that it was too hot for any one except Sheila, who panted in the shade while the others exulted in the suns.h.i.+ne. Carmel, outstretched upon the gra.s.s, basked like a true daughter of the south, throwing aside her hat, somewhat to Mrs. Rogers' consternation.
”You'll spoil your complexion, child! I'm sure your mother never allows you to go hatless in Sicily! Put your handkerchief over your face. Yes, I like to feel the warmth myself, though not on my head. This is the sort of holiday that does people good, just to sit in the open air.”
”It's a rabbit holiday here,” murmured the Major lazily. ”Didn't you read that supreme article in _Punch_ a while ago? Well, it was about a doctor who invented a drug that could turn his patients into anything they chose for the holidays. A worried mother of a family lived an idyllic month at a farm as a hen, with six children as chickens, food and lodging provided gratis; a portly dowager enjoyed a rest cure as a Persian cat at a country mansion; some lively young people spent a fortnight as sea-gulls, while the hero of the article was just about to be changed into a rabbit when----”
”When what happened?”
”The usual thing in such stories; the maid broke the precious bottle of medicine that was to have worked the charm, and when he hunted for the doctor to buy another, the whole place had disappeared.”
”How disappointing!”
”Yes, but a field like this, with burrows in it, is a near subst.i.tute. I feel I could live up here. Suppose I buy a shelter and get leave to erect it?”
”Then it would promptly rain, Daddy, and you'd be in the depths of misery and longing for a decent hotel!” declared Sheila.
To suit Major Rogers' humor they stayed nearly two hours in the field.
The quiet was just what his doctor had ordered for him. He had spent a restless night, and, though he could not sleep now, the air and the suns.h.i.+ne calmed his nerves. He seemed better than he had been for days, and enjoyed the run downhill into Wells.
As they were stepping out of the motor at the hotel, Carmel gave an exclamation of concern.
”I've lost my bracelet!” she declared. ”What a nuisance! Wherever can it have gone?”
Johnson, the chauffeur, immediately searched on the floor and cus.h.i.+ons of the car, but without success. No bracelet was there.
”When did you have it last?” asked Mrs. Rogers.
”In the rabbit field where we had lunch. I remember clasping and unclasping it, and I suppose it must have slipped off my wrist without my noticing. Never mind!”
”I'm sorry, but it certainly is too far to go back and look for it, dear,” said Mrs. Rogers.
”Was it valuable?” asked Sheila.
”Oh no, not at all! Only Mother gave it to me on my last birthday. It doesn't really matter, and of course it can't be helped now.”
Carmel was vexed, nevertheless, with her own carelessness. The little bracelet had been a favorite, and she hated to lose it. She missed the feel of it on her wrist. Her first thought when she woke next morning was of annoyance at the incident. As she walked down to breakfast in the coffee-room, the chauffeur was standing by the hall door. He came up at once, as if he had been expressly waiting for her, and handed her a small parcel. To her utter surprise it contained the missing bracelet.
”Johnson!” she called, for he had turned quickly away. ”Johnson--oh, where did you find this? Not in the car, surely?”
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