You'd better not be chatty with the
man at the wheel, for if you are, I shall have to teach you motor
manners."
My glance, I sincerely hoped, said nothing, for I hurriedly shut it off
lest it should say too much, the astonished thought in my mind being:
"Why, Leather Person, you look exactly like a gentleman! You have the
air of being the master, and Sir Samuel your servant."
He really was a surprise, especially after Lady Kilmarny's warning.
Still, I at once began to tell myself that chauffeurs _must_ have
intelligent faces. As for this one's clear features, good gray eyes,
brown skin, and well-made figure, they were nothing miraculous, since it
is admitted that even a lower grade of beings, grooms and footmen, are
generally chosen as ornaments to the establishments they adorn. Why
shouldn't a chauffeur be picked out from among his fellows to do credit
to a fine, sixty-horse-power blue motor-car? Besides, a young man who
can't look rather handsome in a chauffeur's cap and neat leather coat
and leggings might as well go and hang himself.
The Leather Person opened the door of the car for me, that I might put
in the rugs.
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