d all, till Mrs. V.
fixed her eye on him and said, 'Gustave!' Damme! how he curled up!"

George was still obdurate. A masquerading waiter differed from Helen
in many essentials. "He was a Frenchman, an' they're mostly rotters.
This girl is English, General, an' I shall look a proper sort of an
ass if I freeze up suddenly after what I've said to her."

"Not for the first time, my boy, and mebbe not for the last." Then, in
view of the younger man's obvious defiance, the General's white
mustache bristled. "Of course, you can please yourself," he growled:
"but neither Mrs. Wragg nor my daughters will tolerate your
acquaintance with that person!"

"Oh, all right, General," came the irritated answer. "Between you an'
the mater I've got to come to heel; but it's a beastly shame, I say,
an' you're all makin' a jolly big mistake."

Georgie's intelligence might be superficial; but he knew a lady when
he met one, and Helen had attracted him powerfully. He was thanking
his stars for the good fortune that numbered him among the earliest of
her acquaintances in the hotel, and it was too bad that the barring
edict should have been issued against her so unexpectedly. But he was
not of a fighting breed, and he quailed before the threat of Mrs.
Wragg's displeasure.

Helen, after a delightful ramble past the chateau and along the
picturesque turns and twists of the Colline des Artistes, returned in
time for tea, which was served on the veranda, the common rendezvous
of the hotel during daylight. No one spoke to her. She went out again,
and walked by the lake till the shadows fell and the mountains
glittered in purple and gold. She dressed herself in a simple white
evening frock, dined in solitary state, and ventured into the ball
room after dinner.

Georgie was dancing with Mrs. de la Vere, a languid looking woman who
seemed to be pining for admiration. At the conclusion of the waltz
that was going on when Helen entered, Vavasour brought his partner a
whisky and soda and a cigarette. He passed Helen twice, but ignored
her, and whirled one of the Wragg girls off into a polka. Again he
failed to see her when parties were being formed for a quadrille. Even
to herself she did not attempt to deny a feeling of annoyance, though
she extracted a bitter amusement from the knowledge that she had been
slighted by such a vapid creature.

She was under no misconception as to what had happened. The women were
making a dead set against her. If