tion. There was a vague idea that he had gone on
to the St. Gothard; but the guide who was likely to know, was not
forthcoming, and all Guy's inquiries only resulted in, 'I dare say we
shall hear of him elsewhere.'

To tell the truth, Amabel was not much disappointed, and she could see,
though he said nothing, that Guy was not very sorry. These two months
had been so very happy, there had been such full enjoyment, such freedom
from care and vexation, or aught that could for a moment ruffle the
stream of delight. Scenery, cathedrals music, paintings, historical
association, had in turn given unceasing interest and pleasure; and,
above all, Amabel had been growing more and more into the depths of her
husband's mind, and entering into the grave, noble thoughts inspired by
the scenes they were visiting. It had been a sort of ideal happiness,
so exquisite, that she could hardly believe it real. A taste of society,
which they had at Munich, though very pleasant, had only made them
more glad to be alone together again; any companion would have been an
interruption, and Philip, so intimate, yet with his carping, persecuting
spirit towards Guy, was one of the last persons she could wish to
meet; but knowing that this was by no means a disposition Guy wished to
encourage, she held her peace.

For the present, no more was said about Philip; and they proceeded to
Interlachen, where they spent a day or two, while Arnaud was with his
relations; and they visited the two beautiful lakes of Thun and Brientz.
On first coming among mountains, Amabel had been greatly afraid of
the precipices, and had been very much alarmed at the way in which Guy
clambered about, with a sureness of foot and steadiness of head acquired
long ago on the crags of Redclyffe, and on which the guides were always
complimenting him; but from seeing him always come down safe, and from
having been enticed by him to several heights, which had at first seemed
to her most dizzy and dangerous, she had gradually laid aside her fears,
and even become slightly, very slightly, adventurous herself.

One beautiful evening, they were wandering on the side of the
Beatenberg, in the little narrow paths traced by the tread of the goats
and their herdsmen. Amabel sat down to try to sketch the outline of the
white-capped Jung Frau and her attendant mountains, wishing she could
draw as well as Laura, but intending her outline to aid in describing
the scene to those whose eyes she l