n extraordinary mixture of French and
German concerning luggage, and rooms, and the necessity of a lantern to
show people across the square. In about a quarter of an hour he
returned, dripping wet.

'Well, that's all settled,' he said, cheerfully, as he dried his face
with his handkerchief. 'I've seen the rooms--very big, and bare, and
cold, but the best they have. And I've left Miss Parsons in the
kitchen, tearing her hair over some things that have got wet. And I've
got four places at the _table d'hote_, which is going on. Now, if you
wish to go and see your rooms and dress for dinner, there is a little
girl waiting with a lantern; or if you prefer going in to the _table
d'hote_ at once----'

CHAPTER VIII.

SNOW AND MIST AND SUNLIGHT

The desolation of that next morning! A wonder of snow outside the
windows--the large dark flakes slowly, noiselessly passing the panes;
snow on the open space fronting the great, gaunt hostelry; snow on the
small spire of the church; and snow on the far reaches of the hills,
retreating up there into the gray mists, where every pine-tree was a
sharp black thing on the broad expanse of white. The girls were
greatly downcast. They had their breakfast brought to them in the big
cold room; they took it hurriedly, with scarcely a word. They saw
Parsons rushing across the square; when she came in there were flakes
of snow in her hair, and her fingers were blue with cold.

'The English go abroad for pleasure,' said Edith, with sarcasm.

By and by they heard the jingle of the bells outside, and on going
below they found Frank King in the doorway, encased from head to foot
in an ulster.

'This is indeed luck--this is great luck,' said he, blithely.

'Luck do you call it?' said Edith Beresford.

'Certainly,' said he; 'the first snow of the year! Most opportune. Of
course you must see the Splugen Pass in snow.'

'We shan't see anything,' said Edith in gloom.

'Never mind,' said Miss Beresford, good-naturedly; 'we shall have
crossed the Alps in a snowstorm, and that sounds well. And I daresay
we shall amuse ourselves somehow. Do you feel inclined to give up your
carriage to-day again?'

She had turned to Frank King. There was a smile on her face, for she
guessed that it was no great sacrifice on his part. Moreover, she had
enjoyed that drive the day before; the presence of a fourth person
broke the monotony of the talking of three girls together. It is
needless to add