l. He, like others, was waiting for
his letters. He saw Helen come in, and was hurrying to offer his
congratulations on her escape from the storm, when the appearance of
Millicent prevented him from speaking at once. The little man was hot
with vexation at the scene that followed. He liked Helen; he was
unutterably shocked by Millicent's attack; and he resented the unfair
and untrue construction that must be placed on her latest innuendo.

"As one who has made Miss Wynton's acquaintance in this hotel," he
broke in vehemently, "I must protest most emphatically against the
outrageous statement we have just heard. If I may say it, it is
unworthy of the lady who is responsible for it. I know nothing of your
quarrel, nor do I wish to figure in it; but I do declare, on my honor
as a clergyman of the Church of England, that Miss Wynton's conduct
in Maloja has in no way lent itself to the inference one is compelled
to draw from the words used."

"Thank you, Mr. Hare," said Bower quietly, and a subdued murmur of
applause buzzed through the gathering.

There is a legend in Zermatt that Saint Theodule, patron of the
Valais, wishing to reach Rome in a hurry, sought demoniac aid to
surmount the impassable barrier of the Alps. Opening his window, he
saw three devils dancing merrily on the housetops. He called them.
"Which of you is the speediest?" he asked. "I," said one, "I am
swift as the wind."--"Bah!" cried the second, "I can fly like a
bullet."--"These two talk idly," said the third. "I am quick as the
thought of a woman." The worthy prelate chose the third. The hour
being late, he bargained that he should be carried to Rome and back
before cockcrow, the price for the service to be his saintly soul. The
imp flew well, and returned to the valley of the Rhone long ere dawn.
Joyous at his gain, he was about to bound over the wall of the
episcopal city of Sion, when St. Theodule roared lustily, "_Coq,
chante! Que tu chantes! Ou que jamais plus tu ne chantes!_" Every cock
in Sion awoke at his voice, and raised such a din that the devil
dropped a bell given to his saintship by the Holy Father, and Saint
Theodule was snug and safe inside it.

The prelate was right in his choice of the third. The thoughts of two
women took wings instantly. Mrs. de la Vere, throwing away a
half-smoked cigarette, hurried out of the veranda. Millicent Jaques,
whose carriage was ready for the long drive to St. Moritz, decided to
remain in Maloja.

Th