Nobody

"To see you! Did he come to take you sleigh-riding again?"

"He said nothing about sleigh-riding."

"The snow is all slush down in the city. What did he want to see youfor, then?" said Madge, turning round upon her sister, while at thesame time she was endeavouring to extricate her head from her bonnet, which was caught upon a pin.

"He had something to say to me," Lois answered, trembling with an oddsort of excitement.

"What? – Lois, not that?" cried Madge, stopping with her bonnet onlyhalf off her head. But Lois nodded; and Madge dropped herself into thenearest chair, making no further effort as regarded the bonnet.

"Lois! – What did you say to him?"

"What could I say to him?"

"Why, two or three things, I should think. If it was I, I shouldthink so."

"There can be but one answer to such a question. It must be yes or no."

"I am sure that's two to choose from. Have you gone and said yes tothat man?"

"Don't you like him?" said Lois, with a furtive smile, glancing up ather sister now from under lowered eyelids.

"Like him! I never saw the man yet, that I liked as well as my liberty."

"Liberty!"

"Yes. Have you forgotten already what that means? O Lois! have you saidyes to that man? Why, I am always afraid of him, every time I see him."

"Afraid of him?"

"Yes. I get over it after he has been in the room a while; but the nexttime I see him it comes back. O Lois! are you going to let him haveyou?"

"Madge, you are talking most dreadful nonsense. You never were afraidof anybody in your life; and of him least of all."

"Fact, though," said Madge, beginning at her bonnet again. "It's theway his head is set on his shoulders, I suppose. If I had known whatwas happening, while I was listening to Mme. Cisco's screeching!" —

"You couldn't have helped it."

"And now, now, actually you belong to somebody else! Lois, when are yougoing to be married?"

"I don't know."

"Not for a great while? Not soon, at any rate?"

"I don't know. Mr. Dillwyn wishes – "

"And are you going to do everything he wishes?"

"As far as I can," said Lois, with again a rosy smile and glance.

"There's the call to luncheon!" said Madge. "People must eat, ifthey're ever so happy or ever so unhappy. It is one of the disgustingthings about human nature. I just wish he wasn't going to be here.Well – come along!"

Madge went ahead till she reached the drawing-room door; there shesuddenly paused, waved herself to one side, and let Lois go in beforeher. Lois was promptly wrapped in Mrs. Wishart's arms, and had toendure a most warm and heartfelt embracing and congratulating. The ladywas delighted. Meanwhile Madge found herself shaking hands with Philip.

"You know all about it?" he said, looking hard at her, and holding herhand fast.

"If you mean what Lois has told me – "

"Are not you going to wish me joy?"

"There is no occasion – for anybody who has got Lois," said Madge. Andthen she choked, pulled her hand away, and broke down. And when Loisgot free from Mrs. Wishart, she saw Madge sitting with her head in herhands, and Mr. Dillwyn bending over her. Lois came swiftly behind andput both arms softly around her sister.

"It's no use!" said Madge, sobbing and yet defiant. "He has got you, and I haven't got you any longer. Let me alone – I am not going to be afool, but to be asked to wish him joy is too much." And she broke awayand ran off.

Lois could have followed her with all her heart; but she had herselfhabitually under better control than Madge, and knew with fine instinctwhat was due to others. Her eyes glistened; nevertheless her bearingwas quiet and undisturbed; and a second time to-day Mr. Dillwyn wascharmed with the grace of her manner. I must add that Madge presentlymade her appearance again, and was soon as gay as usual; herlucubrations even going so far before the end of luncheon as to wonderwhere Lois would hold her wedding. Will she fetch all the folks downhere? thought Madge. Or will everybody go to Shampuashuh?

With the decision, however, the reader need not be troubled.

CHAPTER XLIX

ON THE PASS

Only one incident more need be told. It is the last point in my story.

The intermediate days and months must be passed over, and we skip theinterval to the summer and June. It is now the middle of June. Mr.Dillwyn's programme had been successfully carried out; and, after aneasy and most festive journey from England, through France, he and Loishad come by gentle stages to Switzerland. A festive journey, yes; butthe expression regards the mental progress rather than the apparent.Mr. Dillwyn, being an old traveller, took things with the calm habit ofuse and wont; and Lois, new as all was to her, made no more fussydemonstration than he did. All the more delicious to him, andsatisfactory, were the sparkles in her eyes and the flushes on hercheeks, which constantly witnessed to her pure delight or interest insomething. All the more happily he felt the grasp of her hand sometimeswhen she did not speak; or listened to the low accents of rapture whenshe saw something that deserved them; or to her merry soft laugh atsomething that touched her sense of fun. For he found Lois had a greatsense of fun. She was altogether of the most buoyant, happy, andenjoying nature possible. No one could be a better traveller. Sheignored discomforts (truly there had not been much in that line), andshe laughed at disappointments; and travellers must meetdisappointments now and then. So Mr. Dillwyn had found the journeygiving him all he had promised himself; and to Lois it gave – wellLois's dreams had never promised her the quarter.

So it had come to be the middle of June, and they were in Switzerland.And this day, the sixteenth, found them in a little wayside inn nearthe top of a pass, snowed up. So far they had come, the last mile ortwo through a heavy storm; and then the snow clouds had descended solow and so thick, and gave forth their treasures of snow-flakes soconfusedly and incessantly, that going on was not to be thought of.They were sheltered in the little inn; and that is nearly all you couldsay of it, for the accommodations were of the smallest and simplest.Travellers were not apt to stop at that little hostelry for more than apassing refreshment; and even so, it was too early in the season formany travellers to be expected. So there were Philip and his wife now, making the best of things. Mr. Dillwyn was coaxing the little fire toburn, which had been hastily made on their arrival; but Lois sat at oneof the windows looking out, and every now and then proclaiming herenjoyment by the tone in which some innocent remark came from her lips.

"It is raining now, Philip."

"What do you see in the rain?"

"Nothing whatever, at this minute; but a little while ago there was akind of drawing aside of the thick curtain of falling snow, and I had aview of some terribly grand rocks, and one glimpse of a most wonderfuldistance."

"Vague distance?" said Philip, laughing. "That sounds like looking offinto space."

"Well, it was. Like chaos, and order struggling out of its awfulbeginnings."

"Don't unpractically catch cold, while you are studying naturaldevelopement."

"I am perfectly warm. I think it is great fun to be kept here overnight. Such a nice little place as it is, and such a nice littlehostess. Do you notice how neat everything is? O Philip! – here issomebody else coming!"

"Coming to the inn?"

"Yes. O, I'm afraid so. Here's one of these original little carriagescrawling along, and it has stopped, and the people are getting out.Poor storm-stayed people, like ourselves."

"They will come to a fire, which we didn't," said Philip, leaving hispost now and placing himself at the back of Lois's chair, where he toocould see what was going on in front of the house. A queer littlevehicle had certainly stopped there, and somebody very much muffled hadgot out, and was now helping a second person to alight, which secondperson must be a woman; and she was followed by another woman, whoalighted with less difficulty and less attention, though she had two orthree things to carry.

"I pity women who travel in the Alps with their maids!" said Mr.