ed out an agony of trembling thanks. 'I am glad
you are safe from these vile men,' said the lady, kindly, 'though they
could hardly have done anything really to hurt you!'

'Frenchmen should not laugh at English girls,' cried Bertha. 'Oh, I wish
my brothers were here,' and she turned round with a fierce gesture.

'Phoebe, Phoebe; I want Phoebe and Lieschen!' was Maria's cry.

'Can I help you find your party?' was the next question; and the voice
had a gentle, winning tone that reassured Maria, who clung tight to her
hand, exclaiming, 'Don't go away;' and though for months past the bare
proposal of encountering a stranger would have made Bertha almost
speechless, she felt a soothing influence that enabled her to reply with
scarcely a hesitation. On comparing notes, it was discovered that the
girls had wandered so far away from their sister that they could only
rejoin her by re-entering the town and mounting again; and their new
friend, seeing how nervous and agitated both still were, offered to
escort them, only giving notice to her own party what had become of her.

She had come up with some sketching acquaintance, and not drawing
herself, had, like the sisters, been exploring among the rocks, when she
had suddenly come on them in the distress which had so much shaken them,
that, reluctant to lose sight of their guardian, they accompanied her
till she saw one of her friends, and then waited while she ran down with
the announcement. 'How ridiculous it is in me,' muttered Bertha to
herself, discontentedly; 'she will think us wild creatures. I wish we
were not both so tall.'

And embarrassment, together with the desire to explain, deprived her so
entirely of utterance, that Maria volunteered, 'Bertha always speaks so
funnily since she was ill.' Rather a perplexing speech for the lady to
hear; but instead of replying, she asked which was their hotel; and
Bertha answering, she turned with a start of surprise and interest, as if
to see their faces better, adding, 'I have not seen you at the _table
d'hote_;' and under the strange influence of her voice and face, Bertha
was able to answer, 'No. As Maria says, I have been very silly since my
illness in the winter, and--and they have given way to me, and let me see
no one.'

'But we shall see _you_; you are in our hotel,' cried Maria. 'Do come
and let me show you all my Swiss costumes.'

'Thank you; if--' and she paused, perhaps a little perplexed by Maria;
and Ber