latter course
seemed almost brutal, yet he was nearly deciding upon it, when a slight
creak of the door against which he leaned, caused her to look up
suddenly. Seeing him, she rose quickly from her desponding position and
faced him, her cheeks somewhat deeply flushed and her eyes glittering
feverishly.

"Mr. Lorimer!" she exclaimed, forcing a faint smile to her quivering
lips. "You here? Why, where are the others?"

"They are coming on after me," replied Lorimer, advancing into the room,
and diplomatically ignoring the girl's efforts to hide the tears that
still threatened to have their way. "But I was sent in advance to tell
you not to be frightened. There has been a slight accident--"

She grew very pale. "Is it my father?" she asked tremblingly. "Sir
Philip--"

"No, no!" answered Lorimer reassuringly. "It is nothing serious, really,
upon my honor! Your father's all right,--so is Phil,--our lively friend
Pierre is the victim. The fact is, we've had some trouble with Sigurd. I
can't think what has come to the boy! He was as amiable as possible when
we started, but after we had climbed about half-way up the mountain, he
took it into his head to throw stones about rather recklessly. It was
only fun, he said. Your father tried to make him leave off, but he was
obstinate. At last, in a particularly bright access of playfulness, he
got hold of a large flint, and nearly put Phil's eye out with it,--Phil
dodged it, and it flew straight at Duprez, splitting open his cheek in
rather an unbecoming fashion--Don't look so horrified, Miss Gueldmar,--it
is really nothing!"

"Oh, but indeed it is something!" she said, with true womanly anxiety in
her voice. "Poor fellow! I am so sorry! Is he much hurt? Does he
suffer?"

"Pierre? Oh, no, not a bit of it! He's as jolly as possible! We bandaged
him up in a very artistic fashion; he looks quite interesting, I assure
you. His beauty's spoilt for a time, that's all. Phil thought you might
be alarmed when you saw us bringing home the wounded,--that is why I
came on to tell you all about it."

"But what can be the matter with Sigurd?" asked the girl, raising her
hand furtively to dash off a few tear-drops that still hung on her long
lashes. "And where is he?"

"Ah, that I can't tell you!" answered Lorimer. "He is perfectly
incomprehensible to-day. As soon as he saw the blood flowing from
Duprez's cheek, he tittered a howl as if some one had shot him, and away
he rushed into the w