and was whirled away in style, looking like the prince in a fairy
book, as Juliette remarked, while the Pasteur tried to explain to her
how much happier she was without the temptation of such earthly
vanities.

Miss Ogilvy's house was a beautiful dwelling of its sort, standing in
gardens of its own that ran down to the lake, and commanding fine
views of all the glorious scenery which surrounds Lucerne. The rooms
were large and lofty, with parquet floors, and in some of them were
really good pictures that their owner had inherited, also collections
of beautiful old French furniture. In short, it was a stately and
refined abode, such as is sometimes to be found abroad in the
possession of Americans or English people of wealth, who for their
health's sake or other reasons, make their homes upon the Continent.

On hearing the carriage arrive, Miss Ogilvy, who was dressed in a
simple, but charming grey gown and, as Godfrey noticed at once, wore
round her neck the old Gnostic talisman which he had given her, came
from a saloon to meet him in the large, square hall.

"I /am/ glad to see you, Godfrey," she said in her soft, cultivated
voice.

"So am I, Miss Ogilvy," he answered, with heartiness, "I mean to see
you. But," he added, studying her, "you do not look very well."

She smiled rather pathetically, and said in a quick voice:

"No, I took a cold on that journey. You see I am rather an invalid,
which is why I live here--while I do live--what they call