o, he had to make an awkward
jump for safety, and, falling, split the knees of his trousers, and
plastered his shirt-cuffs with the mud which an overnight shower had
left behind. This petty disaster involved a return home, and the loss of
his train. He despatched a wire and made inquiries. The quickest way of
arriving at his destination appeared to be to book by train to a point
some ten miles from it, and then to secure a conveyance of some sort
to get the rest of the distance. He was turned out at a lonely rural
station with no vehicle for hire within miles. Very good, he would make
the best of a small misfortune, and would walk. He got directed by a
stupid peasant, and set off in the wrong direction. When he had walked
some two miles out of his way, he made further inquiries and retraced
his steps. The roads were a little heavy, the sun was hot, and Paul of
late had taken but little physical exercise. When, after three hours
hard walking, he reached the retired chateau which was the scene of the
day's festivity, luncheon had been over two hours before, and Gertrude
and her party were away for a drive. But Mr. Armstrong was expected and
was welcomed, and when he had a little repaired the ravages the journey
had made upon his aspect, he was provided with a pleasant little repast
and a bottle of excellent Moselle. The room in which he took this
meal was on the ground-floor, and was an extension from the original
building. It stood a few feet above a sloping lawn, and it had wide
French windows on either side of it A balcony travelled round it on
three sides, and on that which faced the sun heavy velvet curtains had
been drawn. A full light which brought no dazzle with it came in from
the windows opposite.

When Paul had finished his meal, which he ate with great relish after
the unaccustomed exercise of the day, he explored the balcony, and
finding on the sunny side one of those long American cane-chairs which,
when furnished with cushions, offer so agreeable a lounge, he sat down
there and smoked a cigar. A while ago the small contretemps which had
delayed him would have caused him profound trouble, or, at least, he
would have made himself think so; but he took the matter quite easily
now, and occupied himself in rehearsing the history he would have
to tell on his hostess's return. The day was exquisitely mild, the
temperature perfect, now that he was no longer in hasty effort; he had
eaten heartily, had half emptied t