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genially: “Having a real spending spree, are you? Well, go ahead and enjoy yourself! The estate will stand the strain!”
    Having acquired the car she had to have someone to drive it. Even if she started taking lessons in driving straight away she couldn’t possibly take over the controls of the Bentley until she was reasonably proficient, and she wanted to leave for Stoke Moreton in a few days’ time.
    The young man who had sold her the car gave her the name of an agency where she could almost certainly obtain a competent chauffeur with little or no difficulty—especially if she mentioned the name of the showrooms where she had just obtained the car. And she set off immediately after lunch to be interviewed by another plausible young man in an office crowded with temporarily disengaged domestic staff.
    She had hardly entered the room where the applicants were being dealt with when she recognised the tall, distinguished figure of Sir Angus Giffard, the new baronet and her declared enemy, leaning up against a counter and chatting carelessly with a beautifully, dressed young woman with hair that was several shades darker and richer than Tina’s and a pair of widely spaced, brilliant grey eyes.
    Tina had never seen any member of her own sex quite as elegant as was this young woman, and certainly no one who was quite as assured. She and Sir Angus were discussing a party they had apparently both been to the night before, and their clear laughter rang out a trifle hollowly and mockingly in the taut atmosphere of the agency.
    Almost certainly they knew that they were being watched. .. with envy by the women (especially the younger women present) and with half-grudging admiration by the men. Sir Angus was so impeccably dressed, so much the man-about-town with a sufficiently large bank-roll, and his companion’s beauty must have been a source of bitter envy to the women, while the men naturally fell for it.
    “What I’d, give to have a mink like that!” someone whispered rather throatily as Tina moved forward into the centre of the room, and it was then that Angus turned and saw her.
    He betrayed no surprise. He straightened up, that was all, and his blue eyes—she had come to the decision that they were a strange navy blue in a poor light—raked her from head to foot.
    “Good afternoon, Miss Andrews,” he said. He introduced his companion. “Kathryn, this is Miss Clementina Andrews, whom my late uncle thought so highly of that he left her everything he possessed! Except his title, of course, which unfortunately came my way ... It would have suited Alaine much better! Miss Andrews, this is Miss Kathryn Gaylord.”
    “How do you do,” said Miss Gaylord, staring hard but not even offering her hand.
    “She does very well indeed,” Angus spoke for her. “And she’s obviously here to pick up some staff. What are you looking for, Miss Andrews?” he enquired insolently. “A personal maid?” with his eyes on the chic little suit beneath her beautifully tailored coat.
    She answered mechanically, realising that she was very much at a disadvantage.
    “I’ve just bought a car, and I’m looking for someone to drive it.”
    “Someone to drive it?” Angus’s eyes positively danced as they met those of the lovely Kathryn. “She’s just bought a car, and she wants a chauffeur. A chauffeur!”
    “How extraordinary,” Miss Gaylord murmured drawlingly, and then she tittered slightly. “It really is extraordinary, isn’t it?”
    “Completely and fantastically extraordinary,” Sir Angus agreed, and took her by the arm in a familiar manner. “Run away, darling, and leave me to deal with this. I’ll see you tonight about eight-thirty, and whatever you do don’t keep me waiting!”
    Then he turned back to Tina.
    “I think this calls for a nice cosy cup of tea somewhere,” he told her. “What about the Ritz? Or no, a tea-shop ... There’s one round the corner. All right?”
    CHAPTER SEVEN IT was a very exclusive