came out at last and found Marie not unprepared.

"The fact is," he said, "I'm not going to eat with you to-night, dear.
I'm going to the hotel."

"With the Americans?"

"Yes. I know a chap who went to college with the brother--with the young
man you saw."

Marie glanced down at her gala toilet. Then she began slowly to take
off the dress, reaching behind her for a hook he had just fastened and
fighting back tears as she struggled with it.

"Now, remember, Marie, I will have no sulking."

"I am not sulking."

"Why should you change your clothes?"

"Because the dress was for you. If you are not here I do not wish to
wear it."

Stewart went out in a bad humor, which left him before he had walked for
five minutes in the clear mountain air. At the hotel he found the party
waiting for him, the women in evening gowns. The girl, whose name was
Anita, was bewitching in pale green.

That was a memorable night for Walter Stewart, with his own kind once
more--a perfect dinner, brisk and clever conversation, enlivened by a
bit of sweet champagne, an hour or two on the terrace afterward with the
women in furs, and stars making a jeweled crown for the Rax.

He entirely forgot Marie until he returned to the villa and opening the
door of the room found her missing.

She had not gone far. At the sound of his steps she moved on the balcony
and came in slowly. She was pale and pinched with cold, but she was wise
with the wisdom of her kind. She smiled.

"Didst thou have a fine evening?"

"Wonderful!"

"I am sorry if I was unpleasant. I was tired, now I am rested."

"Good, little Marie!"

CHAPTER XII

The card in the American Doctors' Club brought a response finally.
It was just in time. Harmony's funds were low, and the Frau Professor
Bergmeister had gone to St. Moritz for the winter. She regretted the
English lessons, but there were always English at St. Moritz and it cost
nothing to talk with them. Before she left she made Harmony a present.
"For Christmas," she explained. It was a glass pin-tray, decorated
beneath with labels from the Herr Professor's cigars and in the center a
picture of the Emperor.

The response came in this wise. Harmony struggling home against an east
wind and holding the pin-tray and her violin case, opened the old
garden gate by the simple expedient of leaning against it. It flew back
violently, almost overthrowing a stout woman in process of egress down
the walk. The stout woman wa