Page:A M Williamson - The Motor Maid.djvu/130

114 I made friends with a dear old waiter chap, and said I wanted something nice for my sister."

"You did n't!" I exclaimed.

"I did. Do you mind much? I understood it was agreed that was our relationship."

"No, I don't mind much," I returned. "Thank you for everything." I shook back a cloud of hair, and glanced up at the chauffeur. Our eyes met, and as I took the tray my fingers touched his. His dark face grew faintly red, and then a slight frown drew his eyebrows together.

"Why do you suddenly look like that?" I asked. "Have I done anything to make you cross?"

"Only with myself," he said.

"But why? Are you sorry you 've been kind to me? Oh, if you only knew, I need it to-night. Go on being kind."

"You 're not the sort of girl a man can be kind to," he said, almost gruffly, it seemed to me.

"Am I ungrateful, then?"

"I don't know what you are," he answered. "I only know that if I looked at you long as you are now I should make an ass of myself—and make you detest or despise me. So good night—and good appetite."

He turned to go, but I called him back. "Please!" I begged. "I 'll only keep you one minute. I 'm sure you 're joking, big brother, about being an ass, or poking fun at me. But I don't care. I need some advice so badly! I 've no one but you to give it to me. I know you won't desert me, because if you were like that you would n't have come to stop at this hotel to watch over your