g of
him? A girl's thoughts are never far from her lover; and Julie was
conscious, this afternoon, of a strange and mysterious preoccupation,
whereof Warkworth was the centre.

* * * * *

Gradually the great mountains at the head of the lake freed themselves
from the last wandering cloud-wreaths. On the rock faces of the Rochers
de Naye the hanging pine-woods, brushed with snow, came into sight. The
white walls of Glion shone faintly out, and a pearly gold, which was but
a pallid reflection of the Italian glory, diffused itself over mountain
and lake. The sun was grudging; there was no caress in the air. Aileen
shivered a little in her shawls, and when Julie spoke of Italy the
girl's enthusiasm and longing sprang, as it were, to meet her, and both
were conscious of another slight link between them.

Suddenly a sound of steps came to them from below.

"My husband," said Julie, rising, and, going to the balustrade, she
waved to Delafield, who had come up from Montreux by one of the steep
vineyard paths. "I will tell him you are here," she added, with what
might have been taken for the shyness of the young wife.

She ran down the steps leading from the terrace to the lower garden.
Aileen looked at her mother.

"Isn't she wonderful?" she said, in an ardent whisper. "I could watch
her forever. She is the most graceful person I ever saw. Mother, is she
like Aunt Rose?"

Lady Blanche shook her head.

"Not in the least," she said, shortly. "She has too much manner for me."

"Oh, mother!" And the girl caught her mother's hand in caressing
remonstrance, as though to say: "Dear little mother, you must like her,
because I do; and you mustn't think of Aunt Rose, and all those
terrible things, except for pity."

"Hush!" said Lady Blanche, smiling at her a little excitedly. "Hush;
they're coming!"

Delafield and Julie emerged from the iron staircase. Lady Blanche turned
and looked at the tall, distinguished pair, her ugly lower lip hardening
ungraciously. But she and Delafield had a slight previous acquaintance,
and she noticed instantly the charming and solicitous kindness with
which he greeted her daughter.

"Julie tells me Miss Moffatt is still far from strong," he said,
returning to the mother.

Lady Blanche only sighed for answer. He drew a chair beside her, and
they fell into the natural talk of people who belong to the same social
world, and are travelling in the same scenes.

M