new sister—which I 'm sure you did, though that may sound ever so conceited."
"Of course I won't desert you," he said. "I could n't—now, even if I would. But I 'll go away till you 've had your dinner, and—and made yourself look less like a siren and more like an ordinary human being—if possible. Then I 'll run up and knock, and you can come out in the passage to be advised."
"A siren—with a towel round her neck!" I laughed. "If I should sing to you, perhaps you might say ⸺"
"Don't, for heaven's sake, or there would be an end of—your brother," he broke in, laughing a little. "It would n't need much more." And with that he was off.
He is very abrupt in his manner at times, certainly, this strange chauffeur, and yet one's feelings are n't exactly hurt. And one feels, somehow, as I think the motor seems to feel, as if one could trust to his guidance in the most dangerous places. I 'm sure he would give his life to save the car, and I believe he would take a good deal of trouble to save me; indeed, he has already taken a good deal of trouble, in several ways.
When he had gone I set down the tray, shut the door, and went to see how I really did look with my hair hanging round my shoulders. My ideas on the subject of sirenhood are vague; but I must confess, if the creatures are like me with my hair down, they must be quite nice, harmless little persons. I admire my hair, there 's so much of it; and at the ends, a good long way below my waist, there 's such a thoroughly agreeable curl, like a yellow sea-wave just about to break. Of course, that sounds very vain; but why shouldn't one admire one's
