through caverns, or along the
edge of precipices, down which sooner or later the traveller falls, or
lead at length to some _cul-de-sac_. The axiom was not varied in
Godfrey's case, and the path he found was named--Miss Ogilvy.

On the first Sunday after his arrival at Kleindorf a fine carriage and
pair drew up at the shrubbery gate, just as the family were returning
from the morning service in the little church where the Pasteur
ministered. Madame sighed when she saw it, for she would have loved
dearly to possess such an equipage, as indeed, she had done at one
period in her career, before an obscure series of circumstances led to
her strange union with Monsieur Boiset.

"What beautiful horses," exclaimed Juliette, her hazel eyes sparkling.
"Oh! that tenth Commandment, who can keep it? And why should some
people have fine horses and others not even a pony? _Ma mere_, why were
you not able to keep that carriage of which you have spoken to me so
often?"

Madame bit her lip, and with a whispered "hold your tongue," plunged
into conversation about Miss Ogilvy. Then Godfrey entered the carriage
and was whirled away in style, looking like the prince in a fairy book,
as Juliette remarked, while the Pasteur tried to explain to her how
much happier she was without the temptation of such earthly vanities.

Miss Ogilvy's house was a beautiful dwelling of its sort, standing in
gardens of its own that ran down to the lake, and commanding fine views
of all the glorious scenery which surrounds Lucerne. The rooms were
large and lofty, with parquet floors, and in some of them were really
good pictures that their owner had inherited, also collections of
beautiful old French furniture. In short, it was a stately and refined
abode, such as is sometimes to be found abroad in the possession of
Americans or English people of wealth, who for their health's sake or
other reasons, make their homes upon the Continent.

On hearing the carriage arrive, Miss Ogilvy, who was dressed in a
simple, but charming grey gown and, as Godfrey noticed at once, wore
round her neck the old Gnostic talisman which he had given her, came
from a saloon to meet him in the large, square hall.

"I _am_ glad to see you, Godfrey," she said in her soft, cultivated
voice.

"So am I, Miss Ogilvy," he answered, with heartiness, "I mean to see
you. But," he added, studying her, "you do not look very well."

She smiled rather pathetically, and said in a quick voice: