The Great Miss Driver   By: Anthony Hope (1863-1933)

BY ANTHONY HOPE

AUTHOR OF TRISTRAM OF BLENT, DOUBLE HARNESS, HELENA'S PATH, LOVE'S LOGIC

NEW YORK THE McCLURE COMPANY MCMVIII

Copyright, 1908, by The McClure Company

Copyright, 1908, by Anthony Hope Hawkins

[Illustration: " By Heaven, the girl on the mantelpiece at Hatcham Ford! "]

CONTENTS

I. WHAT IS SHE LIKE?

II. MAKING AMENDS

III. ON THE USE OF SCRAPES

IV. AN UNPOPULAR MAN

V. RAPIER AND CLUB

VI. TAKING TO OPEN SEA

VII. THE FLICK OF A WHIP

VIII. A SECRET TREATY

IX. THE INSTITUTE CLERK

X. A FRIENDLY GLASS

XI. THE SIGNAL AT "DANGER"

XII. SAVING A WEEK

XIII. THE BOY WITH THE RED CAP

XIV. THE EIGHT FIFTEEN TRAIN

XV. IN THE DOCK

XVI. NOT PROVEN

XVII. ONE OF TWO LEGACIES

XVIII. THE NEW CAMPAIGN

XIX. A CASE OF CONSCIENCE

XX. LIVING PIECES

XXI. NATHAN AND DAVID

XXII. THE ALTERNATIVE

XXIII. ON ALL GROUNDS RIDICULOUS!

XXIV. A CHANCE FOR THE ROMANTIC

XXV. A FRESH COAT OF PAINT

XXVI. PEDIGREE AND BIOGRAPHY

XXVII. A MAN OF BUSINESS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"By Heaven, the girl on the mantelpiece at Hatcham Ford!"

"He might have given me a chance!"

Jenny was crouching on the floor beside Powers

"A fresh coat of paint wanted!"

THE GREAT MISS DRIVER

CHAPTER I

WHAT IS SHE LIKE?

"Perhaps you won't believe me," said I, "but till yesterday I never so much as heard of her existence."

"I've not the least difficulty in believing you. That was old Nick's way. It wasn't your business was it? so he didn't talk to you about it. On the other hand, when a thing was your business that's to say, when he wanted your services he told you all about it. But I believe I'm the only person he did tell. I'm sure he didn't tell a soul down in Catsford. Finely put about they'll be!"

Mr. Cartmell, of Fisher, Son, & Cartmell (he was the only surviving representative of the firm), broke off to hide a portion of his round red face in a silver tankard; Loft, the butler, had brought it to him on his arrival without express orders given; I had often seen the same vessel going into Mr. Driver's study on the occasion of the lawyer's calls.

He set the tankard much lightened it must have been on the mantelpiece and walked to the window, taking a pull at his cigar. We were in my room my "office" it was generally called in the household. He stood looking out, talking to me half over his shoulder.

"A man's mind turns back at times like these. I remember him hard on forty years ago. I was a lad then, just gone into the business. Mr. Fisher was alive not the one you remember not poor Nat but the old gentleman. Nat was the junior, and I was in the last year of my articles. Well, Nick Driver came to the old gentleman one morning and asked him to act for him said he thought he was big enough by now. The old gentleman didn't want to, but poor Nat had an eye for a man and saw that Driver meant to get on. So they took him, and we've acted for him ever since. It wasn't many years before he " Cartmell paused a moment, laying the finger tips of his right hand against the finger tips of his left, and straightening his arms from the elbow like a swimmer "before he began to drive his wedge into the county."

The good man was fairly launched on his subject; much of it was new to me, in detail if not in broad outline, and I listened with interest. Besides, there was nothing else to do until the time came to start. But the story will bear a little summarizing, like a great many other stories; Cartmell was too fond of anecdotes. Thus summarized then: