"I am Miss Urmy," she answered frigidly.
The start that Chilminster gave unconsciously affected the steering-wheel, and the car swerved sharply.
"What are you doing? You're driving disgracefully!" exclaimed Jeannette.
"I—I beg your pardon," faltered Chilminster. "I thought you were her lady's maid."
He felt he owed her that one. A girl who could announce her approaching marriage with a stranger (Chilminster no longer gave her the benefit of the doubt) and follow up that glaring indiscretion by a visit to her victim, was—— The imminence of such a thing alarmed him. Was she coming to propose—to molest him? He got hot thinking of it.
The situation had undergone a complete change since he had started out in a rage, and some trepidation, to confront Miss Urmy herself, if need be. Now trepidation over-balanced all his other emotions. Miss Urmy was behind him, in his own automobile, and he was meekly driving her at a cracking speed to his own house! It was too late to turn back now. The thing had to be seen through. Besides, he could not help feeling a curiosity to know what was in his passenger's mind, and to discover her bewildering plan of action.
Neither spoke for the rest of the journey, and at length the car passed through the lodge gates, swept up the drive, and stopped at the entrance to Sapworth Hall. Jeannette got out.
"You had better go round to the stables and ask for something to eat. I may be some time," was all she volunteered as she rang the bell.
Rather staggered by the order, but foreseeing a bad quarter of an hour ahead of him, Chilminster was glad of the respite. He opened the throttle and slid out of sight as Jeannette was admitted.
His lordship was out, the butler informed her. Then she would wait—wait all day, if necessary, she said decisively, following the man into the library. No, she was in no need of refreshment, but her chauffeur, who had gone round to the stables, might be glad of something in the servants' hall.