all that way to meet me--and there _was_ no me! Besides, there's a
rehearsal fixed for ten o'clock to-morrow morning."

While she spoke, the two girls were making their way down the circular
flight of stone steps--since the lift was temporarily out of
order--preceded by the driver grumblingly carrying Nan's suit-case and
hat-box. A minute or two later the taxi emitted a grunt from somewhere
within the depths of its being and Nan was off, with Penelope's cheery
"Good luck!" ringing in her ears.

She sat back against the cushions and gasped a sigh of relief. She had
run it rather close, but now, glancing down at her wrist-watch, she
realised that, failing a block in the traffic, she would catch her train
fairly easily.

It was after they had entered the Park that the first contre-temps
occurred. The taxi jibbed and came abruptly to a standstill. Nan let
down the window and leaned out.

"What's the matter?" she asked with some anxiety.

The driver, descending leisurely from his seat, regarded her with a
complete lack of interest.

"That's just w'ot I'm goin' to find out," he replied in a detached way.

Nan watched him while he poked indifferently about the engine, then sank
back into her seat with a murmur of relief as he at last climbed once
more into his place behind the wheel and the taxi got going again.