taking his hat off.

"But where is the coachman who generally drives me?"

"I don't know. If Madame would like to see in the stables--"

And with a careless gesture, the Englishman pointed out to Madame
Desvarennes the magnificent buildings at the end of the courtyard.

The blood rose to the mistress's cheeks; she gave the coachman such a
look that he moved away a little. Then glancing at her watch, she said,
coldly:

"I have only a quarter of an hour before the train leaves, but here are
horses that ought to go well. Jump on the box, my man, you shall drive
me."

The Englishman shook his head.

"Those horses are not for service; they are only for pleasure," he
answered. "I drive the Prince. I don't mind driving the Princess, but I
am not here to drive you, Madame."

And with an insolent gesture, setting his hat firmly on his head, he
turned his back upon the mistress. At the same moment, a sharp stroke
from a light cane made his hat roll on the pavement. And as the
Englishman turned round, red with rage, he found himself face to face
with the Prince, whose approach neither Madame Desvarennes nor he had
heard.