me?" she cried.

"Ah, yes. He did not say much, but his eyes looked through me. He has
the eyes of a true man, that young American."

She was more bewildered than ever. "What is his name?" she asked.

"Here it is. The director wrote it for me, so that I may learn how to
pronounce it."

Stampa produced a scrap of paper, and Helen read, "Mr. Charles K.
Spencer."

"Are you quite certain he mentioned me?" she repeated.

"Can I be mistaken, _fraeulein_. I know, because I studied the labels
on your boxes. Mees Helene Weenton--so? And did he not rate me about
the accident?"

"Well, wonders will never cease," she vowed; and indeed they were only
just beginning in her life, which shows how blind to excellent
material wonders can be.

At luncheon she summoned the head waiter. "Is there a Mr. Charles K.
Spencer staying in the hotel?" she asked.

"Yes, madam."

"Will you please tell me if he is in the room?"

The head waiter turned. Spencer was studying the menu. "Yes, madam.
There he is, sitting alone, at the second table from the window."

It was quite to be expected that the subject of their joint gaze
should look at them instantly. There is a magnetism in the human eye
that is unfailing in that respect, and its power is increased a
hundredfold when a charming young woman tries it on a young man who
happens to be thinking of her at the moment.

Then Spencer realized that Stampa had told Helen what had taken place
in the hotel bureau, and he wanted to kick himself for having
forgotten to make secrecy a part of the bargain.

Helen, knowing that he knew, blushed furiously. She tried to hide her
confusion by murmuring something to the head waiter. But in her heart
she was saying, "Who in the world is he? I have never seen him before
last night. And why am I such an idiot as to tremble all over just
because he happened to catch me looking at him?"

CHAPTER VI

THE BATTLEFIELD

Both man and woman were far too well bred to indulge in an
_oeillade_. The knowledge that each was thinking of the other led
rather to an ostentatious avoidance of anything that could be
construed into any such flirtatious overture.

Though Stampa's curious statement had puzzled Helen, she soon hit on
the theory that the American must have heard of the accident to her
carriage. Yes, that supplied a ready explanation. No doubt he kept a
sharp lookout for her on the road. He arrived at the hotel almost
simultaneously with herself,