said.
"Your Grimalkin was well named," said he.
"That remark is very cutting, I suppose, Fitzroy."
"Oh, no. I merely meant to convey that a cat is not a racehorse."
"Poor fellow," mused Cynthia, "he is vexed because he lost. I must make it up to him somehow, but he is such an extraordinary person, I hardly dare suggest such a thing."
She began to adjust her veil and dust coat.
"If you are ready, Mrs. Devar," she said, "I think we ought to hit the pike for Brighton."
Mrs. Devar laughed. Fitzroy evidently understood, as he had taken his seat and the engine was humming.
"Americanisms are most fascinating," she vowed. "I wish you would use more of them, Cynthia. I love them."
Cynthia was slightly ruffled, though if pressed for a reason she could hardly have given one.
"Slang is useful occasionally, but I am trying to cure myself of the habit," she said tartly.
"A picturesque phrase is always pardonable. Oh, is this quite safe?----"
The Mercury, finding an opening, had shot down the hill with a smooth celerity that alarmed the older woman. Cynthia leaned back composedly.
"Fitzroy means to reach the road before the police stop the traffic for the next race," she said. Then, after a pause, she added: "I wish we could keep this car for the rest of our tour, yet I suppose I ought not to interfere in the arrangement father made with Simmonds."
Mrs. Devar frowned. Her momentary tremor had fled, and she had every cause to regard with uneasiness the threatened substitution during the forthcoming ten days, of this quite impossible Fitzroy for that very chauffeur-like person, Simmonds. Her acquaintance with Peter Vanrenen and his daughter was sufficiently intimate to warn her that Cynthia's least desire was granted by her indulgent parent; in fact, Cynthia would have been hopelessly spoilt were it not for a combination of those happy chances which seem to conspire at times in the creation of the American girl at her best. She was devoted to her father, her nature was bright and cheerful, and she had a heart that bubbled over with kindliness. Mrs. Devar chose the right line of attack. She resolved to appeal to the girl's sympathies.
"I am afraid it would be a rather cruel thing to deprive Simmonds of his engagement," she said softly. "He has bought a car, I understand, on the strength of the contract with Mr. Vanrenen----"
"That doesn't cut any ice--I mean there would be no ill effect for Simmonds," explained Cynthia hurriedly. "Father will meet us in London at the end of our run, and Simmonds could come to us then."
The steel-gray eyes narrowed. Their owner was compelled to decide quickly. As opposition was useless, she laughed, with the careless ease of one who was in no way concerned.
"Don't you think," she said, "that if your father sees this car Simmonds will 

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