t no evil is intended for her."

"That is your business. For my own part, I know of no one who can wish
her ladyship any evil."

"Is my lord with her?"

"I don't know whether that is your business. I have already told you
that he is gone. If you join your mistress in Berne, you will very soon
find out if he is there as well." Something in his tone made Fanny look
up quickly. But his face revealed nothing. "What shall you do then?"
asked the doctor. "You must make up your mind quickly whether you will
go back to England or whether you will go on to Switzerland. You cannot
stay here, because I am putting together the last things, and I shall
give the landlord the key of the house this evening. All the bills are
paid, and I am going to leave the place."

"I do not understand. There is the patient," she murmured vaguely.
"What does it mean? I cannot understand."

"My good creature," he replied roughly, "what the devil does it matter
to me whether you understand or whether you do not understand? Her
ladyship is, as I have told you, at Berne. If you please to follow her
there, do so. It is your own affair, not mine. If you prefer to go back
to London, do so. Still--your own affair. Is there anything else to
say?"

Nothing. Fanny took up her box--this time the doctor did not offer to
carry it for her.

"Where are you going?" he asked. "What have you decided?"

"I can get round by the Chemin de Fer de Ceinture to the Lyons station.
I shall take the first cheap train which will take me to Berne."

"Bon voyage!" said the doctor, cheerfully, and shut the door.

It is a long journey from Paris to Berne even for those who can travel
first class and express--that is, if sixteen hours can be called a long
journey. For those who have to jog along by third class, stopping at
all the little country stations, it is a long and tedious journey
indeed. The longest journey ends at last. The train rolled slowly into
the station of Berne, and Fanny descended with her box. Her wanderings
were over for the present. She would find her mistress and be at rest.

She asked to be directed to the Hotel d'Angleterre. The Swiss guardian
of the peace with the cocked hat stared at her. She repeated the
question.

"Hotel d'Angleterre?" he echoed. "There is no Hotel d'Angleterre in
Berne."

"Yes, yes; there is. I am the maid of a lady who is staying at that
hotel."

"No; there is no Hotel d'Angleterre," he reported. "There is the Hotel
B