“Are you not over cautious, Mr. Morton?”
“Possibly, but you know I have just come from a country where it never rains, where it is always hot and dry, and it may be I am worrying about the effects of dampness more than the people here would do. It seems a crime to ask you to wear those heavy boots, but——”
“Oh, Mr. Morton, I don’t mind them at all. You are very kind and thoughtful. We are under a deep obligation to you.”
“Please forget the obligation. Just be brave and help the Prin— I mean Miss Marie, to keep her courage, and we shall soon be out of this forsaken land. May I adjust your rug? Ah—now you are snug and comfortable.”
“Thank you. It is delightful to sit here and watch the brook. Isn’t the contrast between the pure white on the ground and the deep green of the trees striking?”
John assented. “This is as beautiful a spot of mountain scenery as I have ever seen. The Carpathians are far wilder than I imagined. I have never been in these Eastern sections of Europe. This fine Alpine landscape equals that of Switzerland and the Tyrol. Do you know this country well, Miss Helène?”
“Not very well. Three years ago my father took me to Kimpola at the foot of the Negoi, our highest peak, you know. The mountains there are covered with snow and ice all the year round; the slopes are very steep and rocky, devoid of all vegetation. It is far more attractive here.”
It seemed providential that he had come at this time; her doubts could be satisfied—why not take courage and ask him to explain?
“Mr. Morton—may I ask you some questions?”
She tried to look unconcerned though inwardly she was greatly agitated. Would he resent her presumption?