e outer door opened, with a rush of cold air and a whirl of snow.
People expected the postman; but Stampa entered,--only Stampa, the
broken survivor of the little band of guides who conquered the
Matterhorn. He doffed his Alpine hat, and seemed to be embarrassed by
the unusually large throng assembled in the passageway. Bower saw him,
and strode away into the dimly lighted foyer.

"Pardon, _'sieurs et 'dames_," said Stampa, advancing with his uneven
gait, a venerable and pathetic figure, the wreck of a giant, a man who
had aged years in a single day. He went to the bureau, and asked
permission to seek Herr Spencer in his room.

* * * * *

Helen was struggling back to consciousness when Mrs. de la Vere joined
the kindly women who were loosening her bodice and chafing her hands
and feet.

The first words the girl heard were in English. A woman's voice was
saying cheerfully, "There, my dear!" a simple formula of marvelous
recuperative effect,--"there now! You are all right again. But your
room is bitterly cold. Won't you come into mine? It is quite near,
and my stove has been alight all day."

Helen, opening her eyes, found herself gazing up at Mrs. de la Vere.
Real sympathy ranks high among good deeds. The girl's lips quivered.
Returning life brought with it tears.

The woman whom she had regarded as a social butterfly sat beside her
on the bed and placed a friendly arm round her neck. "Don't cry, you
dear thing," she cooed gently. "There is nothing to cry about. You are
a bit overwrought, of course; but, as it happens, you have scored
heavily off all of us--and not least off the creature who upset you.
Now, do try and come with me. Here are your slippers. The corridor is
empty. It is only a few steps."

"Come with you?"

"Yes, you are shivering with the cold, and my room is gloriously
warm."

"But----"

"There are no buts. Marie will bring a basin of nice hot soup. While
you are drinking it she will set your stove going. I know exactly how
you feel. The whole world is topsyturvy, and you don't think there is
a smile in your make-up, as that dear American man who carried you
here would say."

Helen recovered her senses with exceeding rapidity. Mrs. de la Vere
was already leading her to the door.

"What! Mr. Spencer--did he----"

"He did. Come, now. I shall tell you all the trying details when you
are seated in my easy chair, and wrapped in the duckiest Shetland
shawl that