"I thought you were going to St. Petersburg."

"I have given that up."

"It's to be Northern Germany, then?"

"No, I have dropped that idea, too. Will Mr. Denham remain here any
time?"

"Probably not long."

"What is to become of me after you are gone!" exclaimed Lynde. "When I
think of Mr. Denham sweeping down on Chamouni to carry you off, I am
tempted to drive this mule straight over the brink of one of these
precipices!"

The girl leaned forward, looking at the rocky wall of the Flegere
through an opening in the pines, and made no reply.

"Miss Ruth," said Lynde, "I must speak!"

"Do not speak," she said, turning upon him with a half-imperious, half-
appealing gesture, "I forbid you;" and then, more gently, "We have four
or five days, perhaps a week, to be together; we are true, frank
friends. Let us be just that to the end."

"Those are mercifully cruel words," returned the young man, with a dull
pain at his heart. "It is a sweet way of saying a bitter thing."

"It is a way of saying that your friendship is very dear to me, Mr.