o the trade. Two
hundred agents wanted in all towns of Germany. If they were every one of
them like _you_, miss--well, I guess I would hire the town of Frankfort
for my business premises.'

One morning, after we had spent about a week at the _chalet_ by
ourselves, I was surprised to see a young man with a knapsack on his
back walking up the garden path towards our cottage. 'Quick, quick,
Elsie!' I cried, being in a mischievous mood. 'Come here with the
opera-glass! There's a Man in the offing!'

'A _what_?' Elsie exclaimed, shocked as usual at my levity.

'A Man,' I answered, squeezing her arm. 'A Man! A real live Man! A
specimen of the masculine gender in the human being! Man, ahoy! He has
come at last--the lodestar of our existence!'

Next minute, I was sorry I spoke; for as the man drew nearer, I
perceived that he was endowed with very long legs and a languidly
poetical bearing. That supercilious smile--that enticing moustache!
Could it be?--yes, it was--not a doubt of it--Harold Tillington!

I grew grave at once; Harold Tillington and the situation were serious.
'What can he want here?' I exclaimed, drawing back.

'Who is it?' Elsie asked; for, being a woman, she read at once in my
altered demeanour the fact that the Man was not unknown to me.

'Lady Georgina's nephew,' I answered, with a tell-tale cheek, I fear.
'You remember I mentioned to you that I had met him at Schlangenbad. But
this is really too bad of that wicked old Lady Georgina. She has told
him where we lived and sent him up to see us.'

'Perhaps,' Elsie put in, 'he wants to charter a bicycle.'

I glanced at Elsie sideways. I had an uncomfortable suspicion that she
said it slyly, like one who knew he wanted nothing of the sort. But at
any rate, I brushed the suggestion aside frankly. 'Nonsense,' I
answered. 'He wants _me_, not a bicycle.'

He came up to us, waving his hat. He _did_ look handsome! 'Well, Miss
Cayley,' he cried from afar, 'I have tracked you to your lair! I have
found out where you abide! What a beautiful spot! And how well you're
looking!'

'This is an unexpected----' I paused. He thought I was going to say,
'pleasure,' but I finished it, 'intrusion.' His face fell. 'How did you
know we were at Lungern, Mr. Tillington?'

'My respected relative,' he answered, laughing. 'She
mentioned--casually--' his eyes met mine--'that you were stopping in a
_chalet_. And as I was on my way back to the diplomatic mill, I thought
I might j