ccupants of the compartment. They were "foreigners," whose
existence might be ignored.

"This line grows worse each year," she remarked, by way of a
conversational opening. "It is horrid traveling alone. Unfortunately,
I missed my son at Lucerne. Are your people on the train?"

"No. I too am alone."

"Ah! Going to St. Moritz?"

"Yes; but I take the diligence there for Maloja."

"The diligence! Who in the world advised that? Nobody ever travels
that way."

By "nobody," she clearly conveyed the idea that she mixed in the
sacred circle of "somebodies," carriage folk to the soles of their
boots, because Helen's guidebook showed that a diligence ran twice
daily through the Upper Engadine, and the Swiss authorities would not
provide those capacious four-horsed vehicles unless there were
passengers to fill them.

"Oh!" cried Helen. "Should I have ordered a carriage beforehand?"

"Most decidedly. But your friends will send one. They know you are
coming by this train?"

Helen smiled. She anticipated a certain amount of cross examination at
the hands of residents in the hotel; but she saw no reason why the
ordeal should begin so soon.

"I must take my luck then," she said. "There ought to be plenty of
carriages at St. Moritz."

Without being positively rude, her new acquaintance could not repeat
the question thus shirked. But she had other shafts in her quiver.

"You will stay at the Kursaal, of course?" she said.

"Yes."

"A passing visit, or for a period? I ask because I am going there
myself."

"Oh, how nice! I am glad I have met you. I mean to remain at Maloja
until the end of August."

"Quite the right time. The rest of Switzerland is unbearable in
August. You will find the hotel rather full. The Burnham-Joneses are
there,--the tennis players, you know,--and General and Mrs. Wragg and
their family, and the de la Veres, nominally husband and wife,--a most
charming couple individually. Have you met the de la Veres? No? Well,
don't be unhappy on Edith's account if Reginald flirts with you. She
likes it."

"But perhaps I might not like it," laughed Helen.

"Ah, Reginald has such fascinating manners!" A sigh seemed to deplore
the days of long ago, when Reginald's fascination might have displayed
itself on her account.

Again there was a break in the flow of talk, and Helen began to take
an interest in the scenery. Not to be balked, her inquisitor searched
in a _portmonnaie_ attached to her left wrist wi