ght, and its sequel."

"But I enjoyed it thoroughly. Please don't think I am only a fair
weather mountaineer."

"No. I am not likely to commit that mistake. It was feminine spite,
not elemental, that I fancied might have troubled you. Now I am going
to face the enemy alone. Pity me, and please drink to my success."

He favored Spencer and the de la Veres with a comprehensive nod, and
turned away, well satisfied that he had claimed a condition of
confidence, of mutual trust, between Helen and himself.

Millicent was reading the menu when she heard Bower's voice at her
shoulder. "Good morning, Millicent," he said. "Shall we declare a
truce? May I eat at your table? That, at least, will be original.
Picture the amazement of the mob if the lion and the lamb split a
small bottle."

He was bold; but chance had fenced her with triple brass. "I really
don't feel inclined to forgive you," she said, with a quite forgiving
smile.

He sat down. The two were watched with discreet stupefaction by many.

"Never give rein to your emotions, Millicent. You did so last night,
and blundered badly in consequence. Artifice is the truest art, you
know. Let us, then, be unreal, and act as though we were the dearest
friends."

"We are, I imagine. Self interest should keep us solid."

Bower affected a momentary absorption in the wine list. He gave his
order, and the waiter left them.

"Now, I want you to be good," he said. "Put your cards on the table,
and I will do the same. Let us discuss matters without prejudice, as
the lawyers say. And, in the first instance, tell me exactly what
you imply by the statement that Mr. Charles K. Spencer, of Denver,
Colorado, as he appears in the hotel register, is responsible for
Helen Wynton's presence here to-day."

CHAPTER XV

A COWARD'S VICTORY

"It is a queer story," said Bower.

"Because it is true," retorted Millicent.

"Yet she never set eyes on the man until she met him here."

"That is rather impossible, isn't it?"

"It is a fact, nevertheless. On the day I arrived in Maloja, a letter
came from the editor of 'The Firefly,' telling her that he had written
to Spencer, whom he knew, and suggested that they should become
acquainted."

"These things are easily managed," said Millicent airily.

"I accept Miss Wynton's version." Bower spoke with brutal frankness.
The morning's tribulation had worn away some of the veneer. He fully
expected the girl to flare into ill suppres