fail!"He grew cool, nay, impassively indifferent. The crisis shimmered
before him. An inspiration came as he gazed into the depths of those
wonderful blue eyes, and in a moment the hand of Fate, or the
miscalculation of a tired boy, bestowed on him the aid he sorely
needed.The street porter had chosen the wrong luggage. _That_ required no
reasoned explanation. Boys are boys all the world over. One strap
certainly becomes much like another when they are hurriedly doffed from
similar canvas-covered receptacles on the landing outside a bedroom
door. So Medenham addressed the lady."You are quite right, Miss Vanrenen. I ought not to have taken your
trunks entirely on trust. It is a great fault of mine, I assure you,
never to doubt the word of a gentleman. But the fault is not so grevious
as it seems. I overheard a boy talking of some luggage which he had
collected for a distant chauffeur. In all probability he has obeyed
your orders in sending it to the guard-room. Come, let us see.""What do _you_ think, Mrs. Devar?" she said. When he heard the name, Medenham was so amazed that the last vestige of chauffeurism vanished from his manner. "You don't mean to say you are Jimmy Devar's mother?" he gasped. Mrs. Devar positively jumped. If a look could have slain he would have fallen then and there. As it was, she tried to freeze him to death. "Do I understand that you are speaking of Captain Devar, of Horton's Horse?" she said, aloof as an iceberg. "Yes," said he coolly, though regretting the lapse. He had stupidly brought about an awkward incident, and must remember in future not to address either lady as an equal. "I was not aware that my son was on familiar terms with the chauffeur fraternity." "Sorry, but the name slipped out unawares. Captain Devar is, or used to be, very easy-going in his ways, you know." "So it would seem." She turned her back on him disdainfully. "In the circumstances, Cynthia," she said, "I am inclined to believe that we ought to make further inquiries before we exchange cars, and drivers, in this fashion." "But what is to be done? All our arrangements are made--our rooms ordered--I have even sent father each day's address. If we cancel everything by telegraph he will be alarmed." "Oh, I did not mean that," protested the lady hurriedly. It was evident that she hardly knew what to say. Medenham's wholly unexpected query had unnerved her. "Is there any alternative?" demanded Cynthia ruefully, glancing from one to the other. "It is rather late to hire another car to-day, I admit----" began Mrs. Devar. "It would be quite impossible, madam," put in Medenham. "This is Derby Day, and there is not a motor to be obtained in London except a taxicab. It was sheer good luck for Simmonds that he was able to secure me as his deputy." He 

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