young fellow who was quite as much
perplexed as the proprietor. Archie Severance was one of the last to
fall under the spell of Bessie--if, indeed, it is correct to speak of
Archie falling at all. He was a very deliberate young man, not given to
doing anything precipitately, but there is no doubt that the charming
personality of Bessie fascinated him, although he seemed to content
himself with admiring her from a distance. Bessie somehow did not
appear to care about being admired from a distance, and once, when
Archie was promenading to and fro on the terrace above the river, she
smiled sweetly at him from her book, and he sat down beside her. Jimmy
Wellman had gone that morning, and the rest had not yet found it out.
Jimmy had so completely monopolised Miss Durand for the last few days
that no one else had had a chance, but now that he had departed, Bessie
sat alone on the terrace, which was a most unusual state of things.

"They tell me," said Bessie, in her most flattering manner, "that you
are a famous climber, and that you have been to the top of the
Matterhorn."

"Oh, not famous; far from it," said Archie modestly. "I have been up
the Matterhorn three or four times; but then women and children make
the ascent nowadays, so that is nothing unusual."

"I am sure you must have had some thrilling escapes," continued Bessie,
looking with admiration at Archie's stalwart frame. "Mr. Wellman had an
awful experience----"

"Yesterday?" interrupted Archie. "I hear he left early this morning."

"No, not yesterday," said Miss Durand coldly, drawing herself up with
some indignation; but as she glanced sideways at Mr. Severance, that
young man seemed so innocent that she thought perhaps he meant nothing
in particular by his remark. So, after a slight pause, Bessie went on
again. "It was a week ago. He was climbing the Stockhorn and all at
once the clouds surrounded him."

"And what did Jimmy do? Waited till the clouds rolled by, I suppose."

"Now, Mr. Severance, if you are going to laugh at me, I shall not talk
to you any more."

"I assure you, Miss Durand, I was not laughing at you. I was laughing
at Jimmy. I never regarded the Stockhorn as a formidable peak. It is
something like 7,195 feet high, I believe, not to mention the inches."

"But surely, Mr. Severance, you know very well that the danger of a
mountain does not necessarily bear any proportion to its altitude
above the sea."

"That is very true. I am sure tha