My Friend the Chauffeur

The Story

The story begins in the glamorous setting of the French Riviera, where a wealthy, somewhat naive American widow, Mrs. Kidder, has recently arrived with her daughter, Maida, and her younger cousin, Beechy. Mrs. Kidder, having recently lost her husband, is eager to enjoy her newfound fortune and elevate her social standing. To this end, she has adopted the title of "Countess Dalmar," a ruse suggested by a mysterious and charming acquaintance, Prince Dalmar-Kalm. Seeking a novel way to travel through Europe, the Countess answers an advertisement placed in a local paper by Ralph Moray, an Englishman of title who, along with his friend Terence "Terry" Barrymore, offers to conduct travelers through Europe in a high-quality motorcar. Terry, an Irishman in financial distress, serves as the chauffeur, while Ralph acts as the guide.

Despite Terry’s initial reluctance and his disdain for the "Countess’s" pretensions, the party embarks on a journey that takes them from the sun-drenched coast of France into the rugged, mountainous regions of Italy and eventually toward the exotic shores of the Adriatic. The early stages of the trip are idyllic, defined by the thrill of early twentieth-century motoring: winding roads, flowering landscapes, and the exhilarating freedom of a pace that allows for exploration. However, the shadow of Prince Dalmar-Kalm looms large over the group. The Prince, who follows the party in his own vehicle, constantly attempts to isolate the Countess and manipulate her for her fortune. His presence serves as a recurring source of friction, as he represents the very type of European aristocrat that the practical, level-headed Maida and the mischievous Beechy instinctively distrust.

As the travelers push further east into Dalmatia, the terrain becomes increasingly wild and challenging, mirroring the shifting dynamics among the party. The Prince’s machinations reach a fever pitch when he orchestrates a dangerous scenario in the town of Cattaro, successfully separating Maida from the rest of the group under the guise of an excursion to his ancestral mountain home, Schloss Hrvoya. Meanwhile, the Countess remains on a yacht, "Arethusa," caught in the Prince’s web of deceit. The climax of the journey occurs when Terry and Ralph, realizing the danger Maida is in, set out to rescue her. The pursuit involves high-stakes maneuvering through treacherous mountain passes, where the performance of the motorcar becomes as critical as the courage of the driver.

The resolution sees the truth about the Prince’s intentions fully exposed. His claims to his vast estate are revealed to be hollow, and his manipulative nature is unmasked before the Countess, who is finally forced to confront the reality of the man she had trusted. The journey concludes not with the romantic fairy-tale ending the Countess had envisioned, but with a more grounded reality. The bonds formed between the travelers—specifically the burgeoning romance between Terry and Maida—are tested and solidified by the trials of the road. The Prince is left to his own devices, having failed to secure the fortune he sought, while the rest of the party finds a new sense of clarity and purpose, having navigated the literal and metaphorical pitfalls of their European tour.

The People

• Mrs. Kidder (The Countess): A wealthy American widow who desperately wants to be accepted into European high society. She is easily swayed by flattery and titles, which makes her the primary target for the Prince’s exploitation.
• Terry Barrymore: An Irishman and the group’s chauffeur. Handsome and capable, he hides his financial woes behind a mask of cynical wit. He is the most competent member of the party and eventually proves his worthiness to Maida through his protective nature.
• Maida Destrey: The Countess’s companion and a young woman of keen observation and moral clarity. She is the first to recognize the Prince’s insincerity and serves as the emotional anchor for the group, often acting as the voice of reason.
• Beechy Kidder: Mrs. Kidder’s younger cousin, who delights in being "naughty" and "childish." Her sharp tongue and lack of social inhibition provide a necessary, humorous check on the pretenses of the adults.
• Prince Dalmar-Kalm: A smooth-talking aristocrat who uses his charm and position to prey on wealthy tourists. He is the antagonist of the story, driven entirely by greed and the desire to maintain a life of luxury at others' expense.
• Ralph Moray: The English gentleman who organizes the tour. While he lacks Terry’s mechanical expertise, his social standing provides the "respectable" front for the operation, and he acts as a sounding board for the group’s evolving dynamics.

In Its Own Voice

The author emphasizes the unreliability of the Prince’s promises, echoing a cynical wisdom regarding those who rely on titles rather than character.

"Put not your trust in Princes, nor in the motor-cars of Princes."

The group’s reliance on the mechanics of their car highlights the vulnerability of the traveler in the early days of motoring, where technical failure could derail even the grandest plans.

"If your chauffeur tells you that your car will be ready in an hour, it will be three, if not four; if he says that you can start on again that afternoon, it will be to-morrow before lunch."

Maida, often observant of the way others perceive her, notices the shift in how she is treated as the group moves through rural settings, contrasting her own identity with the "curiosity" of the locals.

"I suppose we're as great curiosities to them, as they are to us," she said, lingering to gaze at the gorgeous fruit, or some quaint Catholic emblems for sale in dingy windows, until Sir Ralph had to hurry her along lest we should miss the train.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an exploration of the collision between the "Old World" of European tradition and the "New World" of American ambition and technological optimism. The motorcar serves as the bridge between these two worlds—a machine that promises freedom and mastery over distance but which also exposes the traveler to the raw, unvarnished realities of the landscapes they pass through. The "motor zone" acts as a boundary: inside it, life is mediated by speed, comfort, and a certain detachment; beyond it, the travelers are forced to confront cultures, languages, and attitudes that defy their American expectations.

The book also acts as a commentary on the dangers of social climbing. Mrs. Kidder’s desire to be a "Countess" is not merely a harmless quirk; it is a fundamental flaw that clouds her judgment and puts her and her companions in jeopardy. Her gullibility toward the Prince serves as a cautionary tale about the insecurity of those who try to buy their way into a status they do not understand. In contrast, the characters who rely on their own competence and integrity—specifically Terry and Maida—are the ones who survive the journey with their dignity intact.

Furthermore, the narrative challenges the romanticization of the past. While the travelers frequently visit palaces, ruins, and historic sites, the book consistently undermines the notion that these places hold the answers to modern happiness. The "Prince" is a relic of this failing aristocracy, using his ancestry as a tool for fraud. The true richness of the journey is not found in the palaces or the legends of saints, but in the present-moment experiences: the shared meals, the mechanical challenges of the car, and the quiet, human connections made amidst the chaos of travel. The author argues that experience is superior to pedigree, and that one's true character is revealed not in the "palaces and princes" one visits, but in how one behaves when the car breaks down on a dusty mountain road.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy travelogues and stories of early 20th-century adventure will find much to admire here. The book captures the specific excitement of the "pioneer" age of motoring—the time before GPS, high-speed highways, and global tourism, when a journey across Europe was a genuine expedition. The descriptive prose remains remarkably vibrant; the author paints the scenery of the Riviera and the Dalmatian coast with a warmth that makes the reader feel the breeze and see the colors of the bougainvillea and the sea.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the period-specific attitudes embedded in the narrative. The social hierarchy of the time is treated as a given, and there are occasional, dated portrayals of the local populations the travelers encounter. Additionally, the plot relies heavily on the conventions of Edwardian-era melodramas—coincidences are frequent, and the dialogue can be quite formal and, at times, overly precious. If you are looking for a fast-paced thriller, you may find the pacing uneven, as the narrative frequently pauses for long, descriptive detours or light-hearted banter.

Yet, there is a genuine charm in the way the characters grow throughout the trip. The transition from the "Countess's" naive, money-driven delusions to a more humble appreciation of her companions provides a satisfying arc. The book is best read as a "slow travel" experience—a chance to immerse oneself in a world that feels both distant and strangely familiar. It stays with you not because of its plot twists, but because of the atmosphere it creates: a blend of high-society pretense, the clatter and oil-scented reality of early motor travel, and the enduring appeal of the open road. It is an honest, if occasionally dated, look at what happens when people are forced to leave their comforts behind and rely on each other in the face of the unknown.