oprano.

Stampa and the others approached. Together they climbed the little
hill leading to the summit of the pass. In the village they said "Good
night" to the two guides and Karl.

Helen promised laughingly to make the acquaintance of Johann Klucker's
cat at the first opportunity. She was passing through a wicket that
protects the footpath across the golf links, when she heard Stampa
growl:

"_Morgen frueh!_"

"_Ja!_" snapped Bower.

She smiled to herself at the thought that things were going to happen
to-morrow. She was right. But she had not yet done with the present
day. When she entered the cozy and brilliantly lighted veranda of the
hotel, the first person her amazed eyes alighted upon was Millicent
Jaques.

CHAPTER XI

WHEREIN HELEN LIVES A CROWDED HOUR

"Millicent! You here!" Helen breathed the words in an undertone that
carried more than a hint of dismay.

It was one of those rare crises in life when the brain receives a
presage of evil without any prior foundation of fact. Helen had every
reason to welcome her friend, none to be chilled by her unexpected
presence. Among a small circle of intimate acquaintances she counted
Millicent Jaques the best and truest. They had drifted apart; but that
was owing to Helen's lack of means. She was not able, nor did she
aspire, to mix in the society that hailed the actress as a bright
particular star. Yet it meant much to a girl earning her daily bread
in a heedless city that she should possess one friend of her own age
and sex who could speak of the golden years when they were children
together,--the years when Helen's father was the prospective governor
of an Indian province as large as France; when the tuft hunters now
gathered in Maloja would have fawned on her mother in hope of
subsequent recognition.

Why, then, did Helen falter in her greeting? Who can tell? She herself
did not know, unless it was that Millicent rose so leisurely from the
table at which she was drinking a belated cup of tea, and came toward
her with a smile that had no warmth in it.

"So you have returned," she said, "and with both cavaliers?"

Helen was conscious of a queer humming noise in her head. She was
incapable of calm thought. She realized now that the friend she had
left in London was here in the guise of a bitter enemy. The veranda
was full of people waiting for the post. The snow had banished them
from links and tennis court. This August afternoon was dark as
mi