The Count's Chauffeur

ommenced to chat with me.

"That's a very fine car of yours," he said. "You ought to be able to travel pretty fast, eh?"

"Well, we do, as a matter of fact," I replied.

Then he went to the door, and looking over the panes of frosted glass, asked what horse-power it was, and a number of other questions with which non-motorists always plague the chauffeur.

Then, returning to me, he remarked what a very nice gentleman his lordship was, adding that he had been a customer on several occasions.

"Have you been long in his service?" he inquired.

"Oh, yes," I replied, determined not to be thought a new hand. "Quite a long time. As you say, he is a very charming man."

"He's very wealthy, according to report. I read something about him in the papers the other day -- a gift of some thousands to the Hospital Fund."

This rather surprised me. I never remembered having seen the name of Count Bindo di Ferraris in the papers.

Presently I got up, and wandering about t