ust as well walk over the Grimsel and the Furca, and then on to
the Gotthard. The Court is at Monza. So it occurred to me ... that in
passing ... I might venture to drop in and say how-do-you-do to you.'

'Thank you,' I answered, severely--but my heart spoke otherwise--'I do
very well. And you, Mr. Tillington?'

'Badly,' he echoed. 'Badly, since _you_ went away from Schlangenbad.'

I gazed at his dusty feet. 'You are tramping,' I said, cruelly. 'I
suppose you will get forward for lunch to Meiringen?'

'I-- I did not contemplate it.'

'Indeed?'

He grew bolder. 'No; to say the truth, I half hoped I might stop and
spend the day here with you.'

'Elsie,' I remarked firmly, 'if Mr. Tillington persists in planting
himself upon us like this, one of us must go and investigate the kitchen
department.'

Elsie rose like a lamb. I have an impression that she gathered we wanted
to be left alone.

[Illustration: I MAY STAY, MAYN'T I?]

He turned to me imploringly. 'Lois,' he cried, stretching out his arms,
with an appealing air, 'I _may_ stay, mayn't I?'

I tried to be stern; but I fear 'twas a feeble pretence. 'We are two
girls, alone in a house,' I answered. 'Lady Georgina, as a matron of
experience, ought to have protected us. Merely to give you lunch is
almost irregular. (Good diplomatic word, irregular.) Still, in these
days, I suppose you _may_ stay, if you leave early in the afternoon.
That's the utmost I can do for you.'

'You are not gracious,' he cried, gazing at me with a wistful look.

I did not dare to be gracious. 'Uninvited guests must not quarrel with
their welcome,' I answered severely. Then the woman in me broke forth.
'But indeed, Mr. Tillington, I am glad to see you.'

He leaned forward eagerly. 'So you are not angry with me, Lois? I may
call you _Lois_?'

I trembled and hesitated. 'I am not angry with you. I-- I like you too
much to be ever angry with you. And I am glad you came--just this
once--to see me.... Yes,--when we are alone--you may call me Lois.'

He tried to seize my hand. I withdrew it. 'Then I may perhaps hope,' he
began, 'that some day----'

I shook my head. 'No, no,' I said, regretfully. 'You misunderstand me.
I like you very much; and I like to see you. But as long as you are rich
and have prospects like yours, I could never marry you. My pride
wouldn't let me. Take that as final.'

I looked away. He bent forward again. 'But if I were poor?' he put in,
eagerly.

I hesitat