was the best in Switzerland, so she
had assured me in one of our talks: she could never pass through Zuerich
without making a night of it at the Baur au Lac. But one night of it
appeared to be enough, or so it had proved on this occasion, for again I
missed her by a few hours. I was annoyed. I agreed with Mrs. Lascelles
about this hotel. Since I had made up my mind to overtake her first or
last, it might as well have been a comfortable place like this, where
there was good cooking and good music and all the comforts which I may
or may not have needed, but which I was certainly beginning to desire.

What a contrast to the place at which I found myself the following
night. It was a place called Triberg, in the Black Forest, which I had
never penetrated before, and certainly never shall again. It seemed to
me an uttermost end of the earth, but it was raining when I arrived, and
the rain never ceased for an instant while I was there. About a dozen
hotel omnibuses met the train, from which only three passengers
alighted; the other two were a young married couple at whom I would not
have looked twice, though we all boarded the same lucky 'bus, had not
the young man stared very hard at me.

"Captain Clephane," said he, "I guess you've forgotten me; but you may
remember my best gurl?"

It was our good-natured young American from the Riffel Alp, who had not
only joined in the daily laugh against himself up there, but must needs
raise it as soon as ever he met one of us again. I rather think his best
girl did not hear him, for she was staring through the streaming omnibus
windows into an absolutely deserted country street, and I feared that
her eyes would soon resemble the panes. She brightened, however, in a
very flattering way, as I thought, on finding a third soul for one or
both of them to speak to, for a change. I only wished I could have
returned the compliment in my heart.

"Captain Clephane," continued the young bridegroom, "we came down Monday
last. Say, who do you guess came down along with us?"

"A friend of yours," prompted the bride, as I put on as blank an
expression as possible.

I opened my eyes a little wider. It seemed the only thing to do.

"Captain Clephane," said the bridegroom, beaming all over his
good-humoured face, "it was a lady named Lascelles, and it's to her
advice we owe this pleasure. We travelled together as far as Loocerne.
We guess we'll put salt on her at this hotel."

"So does the Capt