mistress.'

He could but look upon her more intently. She could not have been more
than eighteen years of age. Her hair had the soft and loose manner of
lying upon her head that is often seen in hair which has, till lately,
been allowed to hang loose to the winds. Her dress, folded over the full
bosom and sweeping to the ground in ample curves, was, little as he
could have described a modern fashion, even to his eyes evidently
fantastic--such as a child might don at play. Above all, as evidence of
her youth, there was that inward quiver of delight at his appearance and
presence, veiled perfectly, but seen behind the veil, as one may detect
glee rising in the heart of a child even though it be upon its formal
behaviour.

'Can you tell me if there is any house within reach where I can stop
for the night?' He gave a succinct account of his journey, the lost
road, the increasing storm. 'My horse is dead tired, but it might go a
mile or so farther.'

The serving-woman, evincing some little curiosity, received from the
girl an interpretation in low and rapid French. The woman expressed by
her gestures some pity for man and beast. The girl replied with gentle
brevity--

'We know that the roads are snowed up. The next house is three miles
farther on.'

He hesitated, but his necessity was obvious.

'I am afraid I must beg for a night's shelter.'

He had been wondering a good deal what she would say, how she would
accede, and then he perceived that her dignity knew no circumlocution.
'I will send the man for your horse.' She said it with hardly a moment's
pause.

The woman gave him a small broom, an implement to the use of which he
had grown accustomed, and disappeared upon the errand. The girl stood
still in her statuesque pose of light-bearer. The young man busied
himself in brushing the snow from cap and coat and boots. As he brushed
himself he felt elation in the knowledge, not ordinarily uppermost, that
he was a good-looking fellow and a gentleman.

CHAPTER II

'My name is Courthope.' The visitor, denuded of coat and cap, presented
his card, upon which was written, 'Mr. George Courthope.'

He began telling his hostess whence he came and what was his business. A
quarry which a dead relative had bequeathed to him had had sufficient
attraction to bring him across the sea and across this railless region.
His few words of self-introduction were mingled with and followed by
regrets for his intrusion, express