“But we know heem!” smiled Madame; and her quiet, gentlemanly husband added in French that Monsieur the colonel had done them the honor to leave messages with them for Miss Dene and Mr Gethryn.
“Papa is not here?” said Ruth, quickly.
Monsieur the colonel, finding himself a little fatigued, had gone on to the Jaeger-hütte, where were better accommodations.
Ruth’s face fell, and she lost her bright color.
“But no! my dear!” said Madame. “Zere ees nossing ze mattaire. Your fazzer ees quite vell,” and she hurried her indoors.
Rex and Monsieur Bordier were left together on the platform. The amiable Frenchman did the honors as if it were a private salon. Monsieur the colonel was perfectly well. But perfectly! It was really for Mademoiselle that he had gone on. He had decided that it would be quite too fatiguing for his daughter to return that day to Trauerbach, as they had planned, and he had gone on to secure the Jagd-hütte for the night before any other party should arrive.
“He watched for you until you turned into the path that leads up here, and we all saw that you were quite safe. It is only half an hour since he left. He did us the honor to say that Mademoiselle Dene could need no better chaperon than my wife—Monsieur the colonel was a little fatigued, but badly, no.”
Monsieur Bordier led the way to the usual spring and wooden trough behind the house, and, while Rex was enjoying a refreshing dip, he continued to chat.
Yes, as he had already had the honor to inform Rex, Mademoiselle had been his wife’s pupil in singing, the last two winters, in Paris. Monsieur Gethryn, perhaps, was not wholly unacquainted with the name of Madame Bordier?
“Madame’s reputation as an artist, and a professor of singing, is worldwide,” said Rex in his best Parisian, adding: