"It's no trouble. I like the driving. What I have had of it. And while
we're at it, we'll come back by Harborough High Oak and look up the
Corner pedigree. They're all over that district still. And the road's
not really difficult; it's only a bit up and down and roundabout."

"I couldn't think, Mr. Britling, of putting you to that much trouble."

"It's no trouble. I want a day off, and I'm dying to take Gladys--"

"Gladys?" said Mr. Direck with sudden hope.

"That's my name for the lil' car. I'm dying to take her for something
like a decent run. I've only had her out four times altogether, and I've
not got her up yet to forty miles. Which I'm told she ought to do
easily. We'll consider that settled."

For the moment Mr. Direck couldn't think of any further excuse. But it
was very clear in his mind that something must happen; he wished he knew
of somebody who could send a recall telegram from London, to prevent him
committing himself to the casual destinies of Mr. Britling's car again.
And then another interest became uppermost in his mind.

"You'd hardly believe me," he said, "if I told you that that Miss Corner
of yours has a quite extraordinary resemblance to a miniature I've got
away there in America of a cousin of my maternal grandmother's. She
seems a very pleasant young lady."

But Mr. Britling supplied no further information about Miss Corner.

"It must be very interesting," he said, "to come over here and pick up