But he
waited until nearly eleven, and she never appeared, and then the
maddening thought came to him--she had probably passed to her rooms
along the terrace outside, under the lime-tree.
He bounded up, and stalked into the starlight. He could see through
the windows of the restaurant, and no one was there. Then he sat on
the bench again, under the ivy--but all was darkness and silence; and
thoroughly depressed, Paul at last went to bed.
Next day was so gloriously fine that youth and health sang within
him. He was up and away quite early. Not a thought of this strange
lady should cross his mind for the entire day, he determined as he ate
his breakfast. And soon he started for the Rigi in a launch, taking
the English papers with him. Intense joy, too! A letter from Isabella!
Such a nice letter. All about Pike and Moonlighter, and the other
horses--and Isabella was going to stay with a friend at Blackheath,
where she hoped to get better golf than at home--and Lady Henrietta
had been gracious to her, and given her Paul's address, and there had
been a "jolly big party" at Verdayne Place for Sunday, but none of his
"pals." At least if there were, they were not in church, she added
naively.
All this Paul read in his launch on the way to the Rigi, and for some
unexplained reason the information seemed about things a long way off,
and less thrilling than usual.
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