"It is well," she said. "If Philip arrives perhaps he will come to the
hotel and see our names registered here."

"And we'll reserve a good room for him," said John, "but although I
don't want to appear a pessimist, Miss Julie, I don't think he'll come
just now, at least not in the _Arrow_. All aeroplane, balloon and
Zeppelin trains have stopped running during the blizzard. Blizzard is an
American word of ours meaning a driving storm. It's expressive, and it
can be used with advantage in Europe. What accommodations do you wish,
Madame la Princesse?"

"A sitting-room, a bedroom and a bath for myself, and a room each for my
maid, Suzanne, and my faithful retainer, her father, Antoine Picard."

"You shall have all that you wish and more," said John, and then
dropping into his usual tone he said: "I think we'd better look over the
rooms together. It's barely possible some looter may be prowling in the
house. Of course, the electric power is cut off, but Suzanne will know
where to find candles, and we can provide for all the light we need."

He thought of light, because the heavy storm outside kept the hotel in
shadow, and he knew that when night came, depression and gloom would
settle upon them, unless they found some way to dispel the darkness.
Despite the silence of the hotel they had a sense of comfort. They had
been oppressed in the cathedral by its majesty and religious gloom, but
this was the haunt of men and women who used to come in cheerfully from
the day's business and who laughed and talked in rooms and on the
stairways.

John's imaginative mind was alive at once. He beheld pleasant specters