rrTYTYYT T T TTTT
 
 SHE
 
 TANGLED. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 RACHEL CAKEW. 
 
 CHICAGO: 
 8. 0. GKIGGS AND COMPANY. 
 
 1877.
 
 COPTKIGHT, 1877, 
 
 BT S. C. GRIGGS AND COMPANY. 
 
 KNIGHT & LEONARD, PRINTERS, CHICAGO.
 
 TO 
 
 SIDNEY DAYKE 
 
 THIS STORY IS 
 
 APPECTIONA1BLY DEDICATED. 
 
 2043286
 
 TANGLED. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 A PAIR of shapely feet encased in embroidered 
 J-jL. velvet slippers rests on the window-sill. The 
 greater part of the owner's conformation is obscured 
 by a cloud of tobacco smoke, but a kindly breeze part- 
 ing the veil reveals, many degrees lower than the feet, 
 the figure of a very handsome, rather pale and alto- 
 gether indolent-looking young gentleman, stretched 
 comfortably in an easy-chair. Does the attitude ex- 
 plain sufficiently his nationality, or is it necessary to 
 say that he is an American ? 
 
 Although it is a July afternoon, Lawrence Conway 
 wraps his comely members in a thick, soft dressing- 
 gown and feels none too warm. Mr. Conway. having 
 nothing to do, has come to the conclusion that he is 
 an invalid. This decision was brought about in a
 
 8 TANGLED. 
 
 great measure by his anxious mother, who, hearing 
 the family physician hint vaguely that young Con- 
 way's frequent headaches might develop into some- 
 thing serious if allowed to continue, took fright, and 
 induced her beloved son to forego the gaieties and 
 dissipations of Parisian life for a time, and try the 
 effect of a highly recommended course of mineral 
 baths in Switzerland. 
 
 Thus it came about that we find Lawrence en- 
 sconced in a handsome apartment in the Grand Hotel 
 des Salines, a mile from the picturesque little village 
 of Bex. Presently the cigar stump goes flying out of 
 the window, the feet come down with celerity, and 
 our hero betakes himself to pacing the room in short, 
 quick steps, angrily gnawing the ends of his tawny, 
 drooping mustache. 
 
 " What a fool I was to let mother's fidgety notions 
 banish me to this howling wilderness. I've been here 
 three days, but three months could not have dragged 
 themselves away any slower. Nothing to do but to 
 take country walks, which is detestable when one has 
 to go alone. No society but a ghastly array of old 
 frights in various stages of decay, real and imaginary. 
 These invalids everywhere are very depressing to one's 
 spirits a very Hercules would feel himself getting 
 weak and ailing in their presence, from the force of
 
 INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 example. A fellow can't walk in the grounds with- 
 out tripping up on crutches, or getting his legs run 
 over by invalid chairs. I stretch myself on a bench 
 for a smoke, when just as I am beginning to dream 
 myself back into civilization again, up totters an old 
 lady, with her maid bearing rugs and shawls. She 
 looks wistfully at my bench, although there are a 
 dozen vacant ones to be had, and I have to hop up, 
 expressing my indifference to repose, and help ar- 
 range the old lady in her shawls and wraps in the 
 place where I had been so comfortable. 
 
 " The stray dozen or so of people who seem to en- 
 joy themselves don't speak English. My bad French 
 would only annoy them, so here I am, one of the most 
 desolate fellows on the face of the earth. I can't even 
 whistle to lighten my solitude, it wakes a bilious baby 
 next door. 
 
 " Doctor Bernard confound him ! might as well 
 have recommended me to my grave, as to this dolor- 
 ous retreat. The place is a paradise in situation and 
 surroundings, but, infested with a hundred or so in- 
 valids who talk of nothing but their symptoms, what 
 place could help being dreary ? And I am bound to 
 stay six weeks longer at least. Ye Gods ! can a fellow 
 live through it?" 
 
 In this despondent current flow the meditations of
 
 10 TANGLED. 
 
 Mr. Con way, till his attention is aroused by the grat- 
 ing of wheels on the gravel below. 
 
 "There is the omnibus with another load of 
 victims. Judging by the amount of luggage they 
 bring, the deluded beings have committed themselves 
 for a long time. There are no crutches on top this 
 time that looks encouraging." 
 
 He watches with indifference the exit of a nurse- 
 maid carrying one whining child and dragging an- 
 other after her. She is followed by the anxious 
 mamma, a prey to small bags and bundles of various 
 sorts. An angular spinster emerges, and in excited 
 French, spoken with a strong English accent, de- 
 mands the instant restoration of the bath-tub to her 
 tender care, which, aloft on the omnibus, contains all 
 her worldly goods. Next come two portly gentlemen 
 of uninteresting appearance. 
 
 At this point Lawrence begins to tire of the inspec- 
 tion and is turning away, when a glimpse of the 
 next passenger through the omnibus window arrests 
 him. 
 
 " By Jove, what a pretty girl !" 
 
 He shields himself from observation behind the 
 half-drawn blind, and watches the movements of the 
 young lady who has awakened his interest. She is 
 very pretty ; soft, baby-like curls about her forehead,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 in lovely contrast to the velvety brown eyes; a deli- 
 cate complexion, a graceful figure shown to perfec- 
 tion in the closely-fitting dark blue dress, and a 
 most charming little foot and ankle temptingly 
 displayed when she alights from the omnibus. She 
 is accompanied by a gentle-looking, white-haired 
 old lady, whom Lawrence rightly guesses to be her 
 mother. 
 
 " Mamma, dear, tell the man which is our luggage, 
 while I go and ask about the Evans party," the 
 younger lady said, quickly disappearing, leaving her 
 mother to follow at her leisure. 
 
 Lawrence emerged from behind the blind. 
 
 " English," he mused ; " and neither of them seem 
 to be suffering from anything. I hope they are going 
 to stay. An hour yet till dinner; of course they will 
 come to the table d'hote." 
 
 Mr. Conway, noted among his friends for good taste 
 in dress, bestowed, on this particular evening, unusual 
 care on his toilette. Could his mother have seen him 
 as he walked up and down the terrace waiting for the 
 gong to sound, with an unusual flush on his cheeks 
 and sparkle in his dark eyes, she might have quieted 
 her uneasiness for his bodily welfare, and felt justly 
 proud of her handsome son. 
 
 Lawrence Conway was not always of the peevish,
 
 12 TANGLED. 
 
 unmanly temperament which these pages would so 
 far imply. Among his own friends he was admired 
 and looked up to as the embodiment of all that was 
 witty, intelligent and fascinating; and no feast or 
 entertainment of any kind was considered complete 
 unless graced by the presence of Lawrence Conway. 
 But to the world at large, outside the circle of his 
 tried friends and companions, Lawrence presented a 
 reserved if not altogether cold exterior. He had 
 spent the past few years in wandering from place to 
 place on the continent of Europe, sometimes with his 
 mother, but oftener forming one of a merry party of 
 tourists of almost all nations except French, and 
 herein lay the chief reason of his present unhappiness. 
 All their communication among each other had been 
 in English or German, and during Lawrence's stay 
 in Paris, and everywhere else in Europe, he had made 
 the fatal mistake of depending on some friend for 
 whatever French conversation was necessary; and 
 beyond a few every-day phrases and words that would 
 procure him food, lodging and railway tickets, he 
 knew nothing of the language. Consequently when 
 his health gave way a little, and he found himself 
 spirited away from all those whose society he enjoyed, 
 and dropped among a crowd of strangers speaking 
 an unknown tongue, he felt the desolation of dark-
 
 LNTBODUCTION. 13 
 
 ness fall upon him, and took a grim kind of pleasure 
 in exaggerating the trials of his situation. 
 
 If Mr. Conway, after completing his toilette, had 
 continued to gaze out of the window, he might have 
 witnessed, an hour later, another arrival. 
 
 Not the omnibus this time, but a covered carriage, 
 with no luggage on the top. Two ladies and a boy 
 of fourteen were the occupants. As they alighted, 
 the younger of the two ladies exclaimed : " It seems 
 like home to be here again, doesn't it, mamma?" 
 
 "Yes," answered the other lady. "What a pity 
 it is we have to start off again to-morrow." 
 
 "You needn't go unless you want to," said the 
 boy. "I would rather go alone." 
 
 " But you could not go alone, Jack, you know 
 very well. Winnie, ask who are among the new 
 arrivals, though I suppose it is hardly time for 
 the Franklands yet." 
 
 " Have there been any English arrivals to-day, or 
 were there any yesterday?" the young lady asked 
 of one of the servants. 
 
 "Mademoiselle will perhaps have the goodness to 
 mform herself by a glance at the strangers list," 
 answered the man, opening a much begilded book 
 for her inspection. 
 
 " Oh, mamma, the Franklands are here ! See, there
 
 14 TANGLED. 
 
 are their names. How delightful! Show us their 
 rooms directly, please. Come, mamma, and see them. 
 Come, Jack, we haven't much time." 
 
 The party ran quickly upstairs, and during their 
 absence our patient reader must kindly accept a 
 short explanation. 
 
 Mrs. Evans, with her daughter Winnie, and Jack, 
 her son, had been spending the summer at the Hdtel 
 des Salines. Contrary to the opinion of our friend, 
 Lawrence Conway, they had found the place charm- 
 ing. Master Jack, at the opening of our story, was 
 on the eve of departure for a school in Germany, 
 on which journey his mother and sister were to 
 accompany him the following day. For the benefit 
 of this young gentleman the family had been to 
 Chamonix, and it was from this excursion that they 
 had returned the evening of the arrival of Mrs. 
 Frankland and her daughter. It is, perhaps, need- 
 less to mention that the latter were the ladies whose 
 advent in the omnibus was watched and approved 
 by Mr. Conway. 
 
 The two families were on intimate terms of friend- 
 ship, and it was at the urgent request of Mrs. Evans 
 and Winnie that the Franklands had come to spend 
 a few weeks at the Hdtel des Salines. 
 
 The young ladies were heart-broken at the thought
 
 INTBODUCTION. 15 
 
 of separating again so soon, but Mrs. Evans hoped 
 to return from Germany in a fortnight, at least, and 
 then they could make up for lost time. 
 
 The temporary reunion of this friendly party 
 brings up so many interesting topics of conversa- 
 tion that they decide to dine en famille in their 
 own rooms. The carefully arrayed Mr. Conway takes 
 his place at the table cFhote and anxiously waits the 
 arrival of the new guests and waits in vain. For 
 some time the two vacant chairs opposite him excite 
 delusive hopes in his manly bosom, but as time wears 
 on and they continue unoccupied, and as no pretty 
 girl with yellow hair is visible elsewhere in the room 
 (there are yellow-haired girls, but in no other way 
 resembling his charmer), he devours the remainder 
 of his dinner in silent, gloomy disgust.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 IN WHICH MISS FRANKLAND'S INTEREST IS 
 AWAKENED. 
 
 THE following morning dawns bright and beau- 
 tiful as the preceding day. Mr. Conway saun- 
 ters out on his balcony, with much the usual look 
 of discontent on his handsome face; but as his 
 roving eye takes in the scene around him, that he 
 had called a "howling wilderness" the evening be- 
 fore, an involuntary exclamation of pleasure bursts 
 from him. 
 
 On one side stretches the irregular chain of the 
 Vaudois Alps, many showing their ragged tops far 
 above the fleecy, low-lying clouds ; a range of forest- 
 grown, or grassy, cultivated hills, terminated on one 
 side by the snow-crowned peak of the Dent du Midi, 
 on the other by the rugged Dent de Morcles, both 
 reflecting their vast heads in the Rhone, that winds 
 beneath, shuts in completely that part of the Rhone 
 valley in which Bex is situated. 
 
 The immediate surroundings of the Hotel des Sa- 
 lines are picturesque almost beyond description, a
 
 MISS FBANKLAND'S INTEREST AWAKENED. 17 
 
 vast stretch of cultivated park, arranged according 
 to the English manner of landscape gardening, with 
 velvet-like turf, shady walks, a lake, myriads of rare 
 flowers and fruits, and further ornamented with stat- 
 ues, fountains and grottoes, and everything that 
 makes a summer sojourn delightful. 
 
 The subtle beauty of the scene stole over Law- 
 rence, and with heart-felt admiration he exclaimed: 
 
 " By Jove ! this is fine. I don't believe I realized 
 how beautiful it was before. They say people never 
 appreciate Alpine grandeur at first sight. It grows 
 on them the more they see of it, and the longer they 
 stay among these mountains the harder it is to leave 
 them. I suppose that is the reason the Swiss are so 
 strongly attached to their country, and are so troub- 
 led with heim-weh when they leave it." 
 
 Lawrence, as he continues to gaze about him, 
 whistles a verse of "Herz, mein Herz, warum so 
 traurig?" He is on the balcony, so it does not dis- 
 turb the sick baby. 
 
 " That, bit of ruined tower, over on the hill in 
 front, looks attractive; my 'constitutional* this 
 morning shall be exploring it. A fellow might 
 manage to kill time here very comfortably, if he 
 only had some one to go about with." 
 
 Lawrence comes in from the balcony, and after a
 
 18 TANGLED. 
 
 delicate breakfast, consisting of chocolate, fresh rolls 
 and honey, daintily served in his sitting-room, he 
 sallies forth to visit the ruins of the Tour de Douin. 
 
 Up another flight of stairs Miss Winnie Evans 
 is skimming through the corridors with winged feet. 
 She must be off in a few hours, and in that time 
 has many preparations to make and much gossip 
 to discuss with Emily Frankland. She taps at the 
 door of her friend's room, calling : 
 
 "Come, Emily, dear, you must give me an hour 
 in the grounds before I go. It is a perfectly lovely 
 morning, it is wicked to stay in the house." 
 
 " I have been waiting for you half an hour, Win- 
 nie," answered Emily, joining her friend, and in 
 five minutes more the two girls were walking, arm- 
 in-arm, down one of the shady, fragrant avenues. 
 
 Beautiful Emily, with her shell-like complexion and 
 golden hair, and the impish little brown-eyed gypsy, 
 Winnie, add in no small degree to the beauty of that 
 bright summer morning. 
 
 " What sort of people are there in the hotel now, 
 Winnie?" 
 
 "Not a very interesting lot at present, mostly 
 invalids, so far as I know. I have been away nearly 
 a week, you know, and there may be new-comers; 
 but I saw very few unfamiliar faces at the breakfast
 
 MISS FKANKLAND'S INTEREST AWAKENED. 19 
 
 table this morning, what few I saw, looked like 
 bores." 
 
 "How glad I am I didn't breakfast downstairs !" 
 
 " You foolish child ! Do you suppose I would call 
 your pretty face 'unfamiliar'?" 
 
 " You might in this place." 
 
 " But I wouldn't anywhere. But to return to the 
 subject in hand. There is a very nice party of seven 
 coming in a fortnight, about the time we come back. 
 Until then you will find it stupid, I am afraid." 
 
 "Which will break up the stupidity, you or the 
 party of seven?" 
 
 " Both, I hope. I think three rather nice-looking 
 Italian girls are still here; also a German officer, 
 whom you can classify for yourself; and a yellow- 
 haired Scotchman, whom we always call ' the fair one 
 with golden locks.' He is so absurdly conceited there 
 is no enduring him. Then there is a very nice Kus- 
 sian family, but the grown-up son and daughters are 
 still at Chamouix. Let me think who else is there? 
 I fairly adore a lovely girl in the room next to mine, 
 but she is quite blind, poor thing, and of course 
 can't be depended on much as a companion." 
 
 " So far, your list shows a great scarcity of beaux, 
 Winnie." 
 
 " Oh, it is always so ; nice men hardly ever come
 
 20 TANGLED. 
 
 to a quiet, dull place like this, unless they are ill, 
 and then they are too abominably cross to be of any 
 use. I wonder if the three Oxford students are still 
 here familiarly known as the three little kittens.' 
 
 They were perfectly delightful, and " 
 
 " Winnie, I beg your pardon for interrupting, but 
 what does that man over there mean by lifting his 
 hat to every one of those ducks waddling past? 
 There he goes again, was ever anything so perfectly 
 ridiculous!" 
 
 " Oh, how could I have forgotten to tell you about 
 Darwin ! " Winnie exclaimed. " It is a long history, 
 though very little known among the people here. I 
 
 shall hardly have time to tell you before " 
 
 " Do begin, never mind preliminaries." 
 " He is a Polish count, and his real name is Victor 
 de Lemanski; but I am principled against calling 
 people by their right names, when I can find any 
 that suit them better. He is very rich, quite young, 
 and would be very attractive if his poor wits were 
 not all on the rampage. So far, his history is in- 
 teresting, is it not ? But I am afraid you will find 
 the rest too ridiculous even to pity him." 
 " Go on, dear, I shall be the best judge of that." 
 "He is quite insane, but also perfectly harmless. 
 He believes that every beast, bird and fish is some
 
 mss FBANKLAND'S INTEBEST AWAKENED. 21 
 
 human being transformed, except parrots, which he 
 detests. He declares they must have been devils in 
 their former state ; for if otherwise, they, having the 
 power of speech, would discourse about their former 
 existence ; but as they say nothing about it, the in- 
 ference is that they were devils, and are ashamed of 
 the fact. Ducks, geese and pigeons he thinks were 
 once beautiful young ladies " 
 
 "Not very complimentary to the sex, is it?" 
 
 " No, that's what I thought. So whenever he sees 
 any of these birds he lifts his hat, and bows with 
 unusual deference, believing that if he omitted these 
 politenesses, they would be as much offended as if 
 they still had their human forms." 
 
 " So that is the reason why he takes his hat off to 
 the ducks. Do tell me something more about the 
 extraordinary creature. Has he been here all sum- 
 mer, or what interests me more, is he going to 
 stay long?" 
 
 "Oh yes. You will have plenty of time to take 
 note of his peculiarities for yourself. But remember, 
 people don't talk about him much, out of respect to 
 his mother." 
 
 "Is his mother here?" 
 
 " No, not at present ; they have to send for her 
 sometimes when her son gets very unmanageable.
 
 22 TANGLED. 
 
 She has more power over him, of course, than any 
 one else." 
 
 " Is he often violent ? " 
 
 " No, but he gets such queer ideas about himself, 
 turns himself into a whole menagerie, mentally." 
 
 "The poor fellow!" 
 
 "Then when his spirit comes back among human 
 beings again, it does not always return to his own 
 person, and he imagines himself somebody else." 
 
 " What a pity he could not imagine he was a very 
 sensible person, and keep up the delusion always." 
 
 " He is too much of a weather-cock for that. The 
 poor creature keeps himself so uncomfortable with 
 his notions ; he never will ride or drive, because he 
 says it is an indignity offered to a human being in 
 the form of the horse. It is too ridiculous to see 
 him nodding and smiling to all the cats and dogs 
 about the place. One day I heard him reading aloud 
 a long article on the merits of blue glass, to a lame 
 donkey tethered over in that meadow." 
 
 " Can people expect these very strange demonstra- 
 tions at all times ?" 
 
 "One can never be sure of him. He came into 
 the drawing-room one evening with some bits of 
 lace and tumbled artificial flowers stuck in his hair ; 
 he carried a basket on his arm scrawled over with
 
 MISS FRANKLAND'S INTEREST AWAKENED. 23 
 
 names of Swiss villages, and decorated with dabs of 
 red flannel, an eccentric representation of the style 
 of basket that many English ladies admire. It con- 
 tained a ball of red yarn and a boot buttoner, he sat 
 down on a hard, uncomfortable chair, took out the 
 yarn and hook and commenced to crochet. From 
 his conversation and manners we all guessed directly 
 that he thought himself the painfully prim little 
 English governess, who is here with some Eussian 
 children." 
 
 " Was the'governess herself in the room ? " 
 " Yes, but she either did not recognize herself, or 
 else would not admit the resemblance." 
 
 " Perhaps this Pole used to be an actor and went 
 crazy with enthusiasm." 
 " No he didn't ; he's been cracked all his life." 
 "But why do they let him make a spectacle of 
 himself before strangers ? " 
 
 " He is very cunning about escaping from his keep- 
 ers when an insane fit comes on, but I believe they 
 are more vigilant now ; he has not done anything 
 very amiss during the past two or three weeks. One 
 of the last things he did was to frighten the same 
 little English governess nearly out of her wits one 
 night. A little past midnight a weird, ghostly sound 
 was heard issuing from a tree near her window. It
 
 24 TANGLED. 
 
 was something between a bark and a groan, and 
 whether human or otherwise, no one could make out. 
 After much poking and stirring up with a long stick, 
 the mystery was discovered to be Darwin, perched on 
 one of the higher branches. He declared he was an 
 owl, and would have sat there hooting and groan- 
 ing all night, if some thoughtful individual had not 
 aimed a gun at him and frightened him down." 
 
 "But I should think the boarders would rebel 
 against having such an uncomfortable person 
 about" 
 
 "His friends tried putting him into an asylum, 
 but the confinement made him so much worse he 
 had to be taken away." 
 
 "But there are private asylums where he could 
 stay quite comfortably." 
 
 " That has been tried, too ; but when his wander- 
 ing fit wears off and it never lasts very long he 
 guesses directly if he is being kept in a kind of bond- 
 age, and it makes him low-spirited and miserable. 
 He likes to be among a crowd of people, and this is 
 the quietest place they can find where he is content 
 to stay." 
 
 " Perhaps, this being a water-cure for all kinds of 
 ailments, they take lunatics as a matter of course." 
 
 " I hardly think that, for his mother pays the pro-
 
 MISS FRANKLAND'S INTEREST AWAKENED. 25 
 
 prietor of the hotel a fabulous sum for letting him 
 spend the summer here." 
 
 " He must be a dreadful grief to his mother." 
 
 " No one knows how much she suffers. He is an 
 only son, too. Out of pity to the mother no one 
 complains of him, as in that case he would have to 
 be sent away." 
 
 " Does she come to visit him often ? " 
 
 "I have seen her once, a tall, graceful woman, 
 with such a sad, beautiful face! Her hair is quite 
 white, but in spite of it, with her slender figure and 
 pure clear complexion, she does not look even middle- 
 aged." 
 
 "Why, poor Darwin, from this distance, looks as 
 if he might be five and twenty, at least." 
 
 " He looks older than he is." 
 
 " You seem to have all his history on your fingers' 
 ends, Winnie ; can it be possible you have lost your 
 heart to this crazy count ? " 
 
 "No, it is not so bad as that, but he is almost 
 irresistible in some of his clear moments." 
 
 "Is he often rational?" 
 
 ' " Sometimes for weeks together he is quite sensible, 
 and strangers only think him a quiet, reserved young 
 man. He is always quite harmless ; and they say if 
 one humors his ideas of transformation, and induces
 
 26 TANGLED. 
 
 him to talk on the subject, he shows a good deal of 
 quaint eloquence and distorted intelligence." 
 
 " I suppose you have drawn him out on his favorite 
 theme many times, Winnie." 
 
 " Oh dear no ! I should be frightened to death 
 if I drew eloquence out of anybody ; I wouldn't know 
 how to receive or stop it." 
 
 "You absurd little goose! But go on, dear; tell 
 me all you know about Darwin, he seems to be the 
 most interesting character about the place." 
 
 " He sees a resemblance to some animal in almost 
 every person he meets, and believes that when people 
 disappear from his neighborhood they have gone to 
 assume the shapes of the animals they are most like. 
 This gives him a rather unpleasant habit of staring 
 fixedly at a new-comer for several minutes, after 
 which he growls, barks, crows or mews, according as 
 his or her appearance suggests." 
 
 " How he must take the conceit out of people ! " 
 
 "But he sometimes finds very flattering resem- 
 blances. There was a young lady here, early in the 
 summer, who sang very well, and he always called her 
 Mademoiselle Nilsson, or the Swedish Nightingale." 
 
 "What has he decided you are most like, Winnie?" 
 
 " Oh, I never dared investigate too closely. ' Where 
 ignorance is bliss/ you know."
 
 MISS FRANKLAND'S INTEREST AWAKENED. 27 
 
 "Does lie speak French?" 
 
 " Yes, and English too, like a native." 
 
 " How could such a poor, rattle-brained fellow 
 learn different languages?" 
 
 " I suppose he picked them up when he was a baby. 
 His mother is English, so it is not strange that he 
 knows that language. During one of his sensible fits 
 one would take him for an ordinary English tourist. 
 I take a deep interest in Darwin, Emily, and while I 
 am gone I want you to treat him as kindly as you 
 safely can." 
 
 " I will, dear. I promise you to do my best to keep 
 him cheerful in your absence. I will make an effort 
 to amuse him whenever he falls in my way; I will 
 take him wherever we go, and smile on him " 
 
 " If you do all that you will certainly repent it. I 
 only meant that you were not to let him see that 
 you thought him different from other people. He is 
 very susceptible to notice and attentions, and if you 
 smiled on him once he would never forget it, and 
 would follow you about like a dog for the rest of your 
 stay. Then, when his next crazy fit came on, you 
 would be the one to suffer. Seriously, you must be 
 rather cold and reserved toward him, Emily; only 
 don't ignore and neglect him as the other people do." 
 
 "It would be better not to encounter him at all;
 
 28 TANGLED. 
 
 he seems to be turning out a very uncomfortable sort 
 of person." 
 
 " It will be impossible to avoid him, I think, for 
 his place at table is just opposite yours." 
 
 " What shall I do if the dreadful monster inclines 
 to be friendly?" 
 
 " Answer him politely, but briefly as possible. It 
 requires some tact to talk to him so that he shall 
 see you neither treat him differently from other peo- 
 ple, nor are disposed to make a companion of him. I 
 think it does him good to talk to him a little, some- 
 times, as if he were like his fellow-beings. The best 
 way, in his presence, is to make yourself out a very 
 common-place, thick-headed young person, so he will 
 neither fall in love with you nor think you a dragon. 
 This rdle was not difficult for me; you will find it 
 more troublesome, Emily, as you have too many wits 
 to hide them under a bushel." 
 
 " I never knew you to be so complimentary before, 
 Winnie; what has come over you ?" 
 
 " I suppose it is because I am going away, and want 
 to leave a good impression. But all this time, Emily, 
 you have not had more than a glimpse of Darwin." 
 
 " Let us make haste and overtake him." 
 
 " No, that wouldn't do ; you must not attract his 
 attention in that way at the very first, he would be
 
 MISS FBANKLAND'S INTEREST AWAKENED. 29 
 
 sure to remember you. We can skirt around this 
 little path and meet him face to face in a most nat- 
 ural way on the avenue ; then you can raise your eyes 
 once and get a good look at him, and then we will 
 walk on as if we had seen nothing." 
 
 The little footpath chosen by the girls was only 
 used as a short-cut through the trees, furtively ad- 
 opted by the peasant boys who brought goat's milk 
 to the hotel, and was, consequently, in very indif- 
 ferent order for pedestrians in general. After a 
 scramble of five minutes, over gnarled roots, slippery 
 pine-needles and moss, the two young ladies emerged 
 on the avenue, some distance farther on than where 
 they had been walking before. 
 
 "Oh, how very vexatious!" exclaimed Winnie; 
 " there comes his attendant, and he is going to take 
 him back to the house. They are actually turning 
 their backs on us as we were almost on them. We 
 must give up the chase, I suppose." 
 
 "But I shall of course recognize him from what 
 yon have told me." 
 
 " Oh yes, you can't mistake him ; a tall, handsome 
 fellow, with a thick mustache and dark eyes ; rather 
 pale and delicate-looking, of course. In fact he is 
 the only man of that description about the place, so 
 you will have no trouble in knowing him again; but
 
 30 TANGLED. 
 
 I wanted to show him to you, as well as tell you 
 about him, and perhaps I might have introduced him 
 to you, if he had been sufficiently sensible." 
 
 " You will be a good subject for conversation with 
 Darwin while you are gone, Winnie." 
 
 "Very likely he will have forgotten all about me 
 when you mention my name." 
 
 " Do you think so ? If there are no other excite- 
 ments here, I shall take a great interest in the study 
 of this poor fellow." 
 
 " The study may begin at dinner, if you like, for 
 he must be quite rational now, or they would not let 
 him walk about alone, the keeper joining him did 
 not prove that anything was wrong. But remember, 
 Emily dear, my solemn warning: do not gush over 
 him ! be calm, and stately, and severe, as you can be 
 when you choose, and you will not have much to 
 apprehend. He will of course fall in love with you, 
 because you are so pretty, so you will have to exert 
 yourself to frighten him into a comfortable state of 
 meekness and unobtrusiveness." 
 
 " Winnie, what a shame you are off again just as 
 we come! I don't realize yet that you are going. 
 You must not be gone long." 
 
 " You may be sure I won't, darling. Kemember all 
 we talked about last night, and I will
 
 MISS FRANKLAND'S INTEREST AWAKENED. 31 
 
 "But there comes Jack, waving an umbrella and 
 looking fierce and important. That means we are to 
 set off." 
 
 " Winnie, it is just like you to go straggling about 
 the place when there are a heap of things to do. I 
 have been tying strings and locking trunks all the 
 morning." 
 
 "What else are boys good for, I should like to 
 know. I got up early and did everything I had to 
 do while you were asleep, like the lazy fellow you 
 are." 
 
 " Lazy, is it ? after the way I have been on the 
 trot for you this morning ; " and Jack began an affect- 
 ing account of his fatiguing search for his sister, to 
 which that young lady listened unmoved. 
 
 " But mother will go without us if we don't 'go 
 back," he added, with the air of an officious martyr, 
 escorting the young ladies to where a trunk-laden 
 carriage was standing. 
 
 Many friends had assembled to watch the start, 
 and after a deluge of farewell words and caresses, the 
 Evans family drove away on their first stage toward 
 the beautiful Rhine-land. 
 
 Miss Winnie, owing to her recent absence, was 
 mistaken regarding the present docility of the un- 
 fortunate Count Lemanski. His latest freak had
 
 32 TANGLED. 
 
 developed itself only two days before, and he was 
 more refractory than he had been for many weeks. 
 
 Nothing could shake his belief that he was a St. 
 Bernard dog, and he had been going about for a day 
 or two with a small flask of brandy tied around his 
 neck, which he offered on all-fours to anyone who 
 appeared to him to be in need of refreshment. 
 
 This in itself was not a bad idea, had he carried 
 the representation no further ; but as he had tried on 
 one occasion, at the table d'hote, to eat and drink 
 after the manner of all dogs, and afterward had 
 betaken himself to barking vociferously, it was con- 
 cluded necessary to put him under restraint. He 
 was allowed to walk a little every morning in a re- 
 mote part of the grounds, and it was to bring him 
 in from this walk that the attendant met him on 
 the morning of Miss Evans' departure. 
 
 That night the poor young man became so violent 
 that it was decided to keep him a close prisoner in 
 his own rooms till the paroxysm should wear off, and 
 he should be collected enough to appear in public 
 again. An improvement could always be expected 
 in the course of a week or ten days, after which he 
 was usually, for many days together, gentle as a lamb. 
 
 The melancholy history of this young man was 
 kept as much as possible from the knowledge of the
 
 MISS FRANKLAND'S INTEREST AWAKENED. 33 
 
 ordinary guests at the Hotel des Salines, and it was 
 only to people there for many weeks at a time that 
 his sad story was known. He was allowed to ap- 
 pear in public only when apparently sane; and when 
 during his wandering moments he, on rare occasions, 
 escaped the vigilance of his guards and made him- 
 self ridiculous, people charitably hushed up the oc- 
 currence or forgot it. Among the constantly shifting 
 crowds at the hotel there were few who had ever heard 
 of Count Lemanski, so the poor fellow's shadowy ex- 
 istence was little the subject of comment. 
 
 Miss Evans, as one of the longest residents at the 
 hotel, had had ample opportunity to learn and in- 
 terest herself in the poor lunatic's history, but even 
 she rarely discussed the subject with strangers.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OUR HERO LOSES HIS IDENTITY. 
 
 WITH a muffled but penetrating grumbling of 
 the gong the guests of the Grand Hotel des 
 Salines are apprised that dinner is served, and the 
 doors of the handsome dining-rooms are thrown wide 
 open, revealing a most inviting scene within. Every- 
 thing glistens and shines, from the polished mosaic 
 floor to the delicately frescoed ceilings. The walls, 
 formed of artistically painted panels alternating with 
 gilded mirrors reaching from floor to ceiling, reflect 
 a brilliant array of silver, crystal, and snowy linen. 
 A profusion of flowers everywhere on the tables 
 and in great banks of bloom at the end windows. 
 Gleaming white statues peer out of groves of trop- 
 ical plants, and a cunningly contrived fountain keeps 
 the air refreshingly cool. Black-robed servants stand 
 silent and immovable as the marble figures about 
 them, till the stream of guests beginning to pour 
 in awakes this enchanted palace to life and activity. 
 The seven o'clock dinner hour is the great event 
 of the day at the Hotel des Salines. The confirmed
 
 OUR HERO LOSES HIS IDENTITY. 35 
 
 invalids dine earlier, so the company that assembles 
 at the late dinner is generally cheerful and animated. 
 
 Russians predominate among the guests, and make 
 themselves most noticeable by their quick, graceful 
 gestures, while their brilliant conversation never fails 
 to enliven the dullest assemblage. There are a few 
 comfortable looking German matrons, with their shy, 
 romance-loving daughters, who leave most of the 
 talking to be done by their husbands and brothers; 
 then comes a plentiful sprinkling of English tour- 
 ists of both sexes sun-burnt, weary and worn-look- 
 ing with their hard mountain exercise, but triumph- 
 ant and happy at having one less steep ascent to 
 climb. They offer a strong contrast to the grace- 
 ful, talkative, tastefully dressed French ladies beside 
 them. Next on the list are a bevy of pretty Amer- 
 ican girls, with the qualities of flirting and dressing 
 developed to perfection. All these are dotted about 
 among a miscellaneous crowd of people, old and 
 young, bearing a general resemblance to each other, 
 caused by a state of semi-invalidism, and a conse- 
 quent indifference to aiming at any distinction in 
 dress or manners. 
 
 Mrs. Frankland and her daughter were among the 
 first who entered the room. Their chairs were placed 
 at some distance from the other guests, owing to a
 
 36 TANGLED. 
 
 gap at the table caused by the absence of a large 
 party on an excursion in the neighborhood. There 
 was, however, one vacant place opposite them, and 
 Emily was eagerly watching for its occupant. But 
 no one appeared as course after course of the boun- 
 tiful repast came and went, till at last, as she had 
 given up all hope of seeing the object of her inter- 
 est that day, the door of the satte-a-manger reopened 
 and our friend, Lawrence Conway, entered the room. 
 
 " There he is, mamma ! " Emily exclaimed, in an 
 undertone. 
 
 "Who, my dear? You seem quite excited." 
 
 "Why, the crazy Count, of course. Brown mus- 
 tache, pale complexion, dark eyes, Winnie's descrip- 
 tion exactly." 
 
 "Don't look at him, my dear, he seems to be 
 coming this way." 
 
 " You never would suppose that well-dressed, hand- 
 some fellow to be a lunatic, would you, mamma? 
 He's going to sit opposite us. I'm so glad, oh, I 
 wish he wouldn't, I shall be frightened to death if 
 he speaks!" 
 
 "Emily, I repeat Winnie's warning you must 
 not speak to him any more than the barest civility 
 demands," whispered Mrs. Frankland, hastily. "I 
 do wish the young man's place was somewhere else."
 
 OUR HERO LOSES HIS IDENTITY. 37 
 
 Handsome Lawrence Con way, with very different 
 ideas coursing through his brain, put all his soul 
 into the graceful bow made before taking his seat, 
 and found himself installed opposite the two ladies 
 with extreme satisfaction. 
 
 "I thought the fair recluse would appear among 
 us soon," he mused. " Pretty girls are not generally 
 averse to being looked at. What a lovely sprite she 
 is ! Prettier, if possible, with her hat off than when 
 I saw her first. I wonder if she is bashful. She 
 doesn't look so. Had I better speak to her first, 
 being the longest resident here, or will either of 
 them open the conversation ? women are never 
 backward where talking is to be done. I would 
 like to ask them such a lot of questions about how 
 long they are going to stay and what they want 
 to see but I must not let them think me rude 
 and inquisitive on the first interview. Life here 
 would have quite an object if these ladies would 
 stay. Of course they would make trips and excur- 
 sions, and would want some escort, I might, per- 
 haps, be that escort." 
 
 Emily's reverie was much more unsatisfactory: 
 "What a treasure this man might be!" she thought, 
 "so high-bred looking; such beautiful eyes, and 
 such perfect manners. Oh dear, why is he not like
 
 38 TANGLED. 
 
 other men? But I suppose if he had his wits, in 
 addition to his other charms, he would be spoiled 
 by flattery. So, perhaps, it is just as well that most 
 of his screws are loose. Winnie's legacy is all that 
 can be desired as to exterior; what a pity appear- 
 ances are so deceitful." 
 
 By this time Lawrence had come to the conclu- 
 sion that neither of the ladies intended to address 
 him. Perhaps it was only his imagination, but they 
 seemed to avoid, as much as possible, even glancing 
 toward him. Once he caught the young lady's eye, 
 but she had instantly looked down, with an incom- 
 prehensible, half-frightened expression on her pretty 
 face. The mother and daughter spoke occasionally 
 to each other on every-day subjects, but no remark 
 of theirs offered the least opportunity for Lawrence 
 to answer. 
 
 But he was not in the least abashed, and deter- 
 mined to open a conversation. He particularly 
 wished to say something out of the ordinary, but 
 nothing brilliant occurred to him. In drawing 
 toward him a dish of fruit, an orange rolled off, 
 upsetting his wine-glass and sending the contents 
 flying across the table toward Miss Frankland's 
 plate. 
 
 "I beg a thousand pardons!" exclaimed Lawrence,
 
 OUR HERO LOSES HIS IDENTITY. 39 
 
 blushing crimson at his own awkwardness. " I hope 
 none of it has gone on your dress." 
 
 Emily, who saw the accident, but not the cause, 
 answered, hurriedly, " It is nothing ; pray don't men- 
 tion it." 
 
 As the garpon was spreading a napkin over the 
 deluged table-cloth, Emily said, in an undertone, to 
 her mother: 
 
 "He is beginning to smash the dishes what will 
 he do next? Do you see how red his face is?" 
 
 "Don't be alarmed, my dear; I saw how the glass 
 was broken it was quite accidental." 
 
 Lawrence comforted himself with the fact that 
 this slight accident had broken the silence between 
 his vis-a-vis and himself; and for fear the ground 
 gained should be lost again, he observed, addressing 
 Emily: 
 
 "This is a charming situation for a hotel, is it 
 not?" 
 
 " Very," was the response. 
 
 " Do you intend remaining long ? I believe that is 
 the proper thing to ask strangers on their arrival here." 
 
 "" It is very uncertain how long we stay." (Pause.) 
 
 " She doesn't seem inclined to talk much," mused 
 our hero. "I'll try the mother." (Aloud) " There 
 are some lovely walks in this neighborhood. I ex-
 
 40 TANGLED. 
 
 plored that ruin on the hill to the left, this morn- 
 ing. Do you know anything of its history, possibly 
 Bex, and its surroundings, are familiar to you ? " 
 
 "No, this is our first visit in this locality." 
 
 "I suppose you are fond of walking?" 
 
 "Moderately so; we are not as great pedestrians 
 as English people usually are." 
 
 As Lawrence poured himself out another glass of 
 wine, he could not help thinking that neither his 
 charmer nor her mother were brilliant in conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 " He is talking nonsense now, mamma," said Em- 
 ily, softly, " he never thought of going to that ruined 
 tower, but was in the grounds all the morning." 
 
 While Miss Frankland appeared to be intently 
 listening to a very animated conversation going on 
 further down the table, Lawrence took the occasion 
 to refresh himself with a good, comprehensive look 
 at his fair neighbor. 
 
 "When I have a wife," he thought, "she shall 
 always dress in white, with sprays of forget-me-not 
 in her hair, and shall look like this girl, with big 
 brown eyes and silky yellow hair. What lovely lit- 
 tle hands she has!" 
 
 As Miss Frankland glanced toward him again, 
 he asked:
 
 OUR HERO LOSES HIS IDENTITY. 41 
 
 "Do you recognize any old acquaintances among 
 these people?" 
 
 "No, there is not one familiar face among them 
 all," Emily answered, intently peeling a fig. 
 
 "Did you hear the music this afternoon? The 
 band is unusually good for a place of this kind." 
 
 "No, we were not home in time." 
 
 "Have you much faith in the mineral waters 
 here?" 
 
 "I have heard of a good many cures, so there 
 must be something beneficial about them." 
 
 Lawrence thought perhaps if he were to remain 
 silent, the young lady might introduce some topic 
 on which she cared to talk ; for certainly, so far, he 
 had failed to interest her. But nothing was said, 
 and the silence grew oppressive again. 
 
 " Is the girl a fool, or in a bad temper, or what 
 the devil is the matter with her that she can't talk ! " 
 Lawrence ejaculates mentally. 
 
 Snubbing is a perfectly new experience to him, 
 and he does not take it kindly. He feels an odd 
 mixture of anger, admiration and disappointment, 
 and bows, coldly and stiffly enough this time, as 
 with a rustle and flutter of white frills and blue 
 ribbons, and a dignified sweeping of black silk, the 
 Franklands leave the table.
 
 42 TANGLED. 
 
 Our hero's reflections regarding them are not al- 
 together complimentary, but their unapproachable 
 manner has had the effect of doubling his interest. 
 
 "I have seen plenty of the reserve that English 
 girls are supposed to possess, but I never before 
 encountered such an icy specimen as this. She 
 seemed astonished at my speaking to her at the 
 table d'hdte, where everybody makes friends with his 
 neighbor if he chooses. The golden-haired beauty 
 looked something more than a bashful school-girl. 
 I can't understand either of them ; I wonder where 
 they came from. It seems impossible to get any- 
 thing out of them except by direct catechising, and 
 that is unpleasant. I know I have no right to 
 question them much; but if people want to keep 
 themselves so mysterious, they should stay at home. 
 Perhaps they have some trouble weighing on their 
 minds, but they do not wear mourning." And 
 Mr. Conway stroked his mustache thoughtfully. 
 "I must go and find Vera, she appreciates and 
 cares for me, if no one else does." 
 
 As Lawrence walked slowly down toward the 
 croquet ground, a pretty little blue-eyed girl sprang 
 forward to meet him, catching hold of his hands 
 and swinging herself up into his arms, and then 
 down to the ground again.
 
 OUR HEEO LOSES HIS IDENTITY. 43 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Conway, I will so much say you some- 
 thing! So long I have waited for you." 
 
 "Speak out, Vera, I'm all attention." 
 
 "I hate Miss Hammond, and I am going to dead 
 her." 
 
 "What! kill your English governess! Then you 
 would forget English, and could not be my little 
 friend any more. You know I won't talk to you 
 when you speak bad English, as you did yesterday." 
 
 " What did I say yesterday ? " 
 
 " When old Mrs. Bradly asked you if your little 
 brother was a delicate child, what did you say?" 
 
 "I said 'no, he is very wholesome.' That was 
 not right I remember what you told me. I will 
 not more say so." 
 
 "But Miss Hammond, what has she done?" 
 
 "You say it, so she may still live some more 
 time ; but she may not say bad, wicked things about 
 my mamma." 
 
 "Why, what did she say?" 
 
 " She did say it was vulgar, and a long word I 
 remember no more, for a ladies to smoke cigarettes. 
 What does a Eussian savage mean ? " 
 
 "Nothing very bad." 
 
 "She said no lady wouldn't do it only a Rus- 
 sian savage. My mamma is a lady, and she does
 
 44 TANGLED. 
 
 smoke cigarettes. I hate that aff reuse Miss Ham- 
 mond ! " cried Vera, stamping her little white- 
 slippered foot on the gravel. 
 
 "Who did Miss Hammond say this to?" 
 
 "To another English miss." 
 
 "My dear child, she did not mean you to hear, 
 and you must forget it. It was very wrong of her 
 to say such things, but she did not mean any harm." 
 
 "Do you find it bad for to smoke cigarettes?" 
 
 " No, Vera, not for your mother, she is Russian, 
 and it is quite right for Russian ladies to do what 
 is considered proper in their country. Miss Ham- 
 mond should have remembered this." 
 
 "Oh! see how much I have marked my dress 
 with strawberries!" 
 
 "You have, you ought to wear dark clothes, 
 and then you could be as much of a torn-boy as 
 ybu like. Why are you always dressed in white, 
 Vera? white shoes, too?" 
 
 "Because I must." 
 
 "Why 'must'? because your mother likes it?" 
 
 "No, because Our Lady likes it." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Do you not have little girls in your country, 
 made dtdttes given to the Holy Mother of Jesus? 
 I am that."
 
 OUR HEEO LOSES HIS IDENTITY. 45 
 
 "Oh, you are dedicated to the Virgin, is that 
 it?" 
 
 "Yes, and so I must wear always white or blue 
 colors till I am a big, long girl. Those colors please 
 Our Lady, and she will be kind to children who 
 wear them." 
 
 "And when you are grown up, what then?" 
 
 " I then be dressed as a lady, like mamma, or go 
 in a convent and be a nun." 
 
 "Do you think you would like to be a nun?" 
 
 "I can't tell, it is so many, many years till one 
 be old." 
 
 "How old are you now?" 
 
 " I have seven years old." 
 
 " Do you wear all those white embroidered things 
 in winter, too?" 
 
 " Yes ; but I wear, too, white fur and warm things 
 of wool; but everything, bonnet, gloves, shoes, all 
 must be of white or of blue." 
 
 " I wonder if your mamma would have dedicated 
 you to the Holy Mother if you had not been a white- 
 skinned, golden-haired little thing to whom blue and 
 white would be vastly becoming ? " 
 
 "Now I not understand." 
 
 " It is just as well you didn't, my dear. But, Vera, 
 you haven't told me your name to-day, I must learn
 
 46 TANGLED. 
 
 it one syllable at a time, till I remember it ; tell me 
 again." 
 
 " Veronica Alexandra von Kolatschewski." 
 
 "How did you ever grow up with such a long 
 name?" 
 
 As Lawrence spoke, Vera's baby brother appeared, 
 pushed in his carriage by a rosy-cheeked Norman 
 girl, in a finely embroidered muslin cap, with gay 
 plaid ribbons floating far below her waist, a spotless 
 white apron and short petticoat revealing red stock- 
 ings and slippers with large buckles. 
 
 The attention of the pretty maid was given more to 
 a black-eyed young man engaged in trimming the 
 turf borders than to her young charge, who had 
 fallen asleep, and was in great danger of rolling 
 out of his little basket carriage. 
 
 Vera sprang from Mr. Conway's side, and in a tor- 
 rent of prettily spoken French gave the maid a sound 
 scolding for her carelessness. The young woman 
 received it with astonishing meekness, which proved 
 Vera possessed of an authority far beyond her years; 
 and straightening the sleepy baby she went solemnly 
 on her way. 
 
 " Where did you learn so many languages, Vera ? " 
 resumed Lawrence. 
 
 "I don't know. In my home everybody speak
 
 CUE HEEO LOSES HIS IDENTITY. 47 
 
 much languages. It is not difficile. My papa speak 
 well eight." 
 
 " How many do you know ? " 
 
 "Oh me ! I know not yet many, some French, 
 German, some English, and Russian of course. I 
 know Italian a few, but will learn better when I go 
 to Italy next winter with my mamma." 
 
 " You don't learn out of books ? " 
 
 "Oh no, out of governesses and bonnes; and my 
 mamma and papa speak not always the same language 
 with me. You teach me much English, Mr. Con way." 
 
 "Do I, indeed?" 
 
 "Yes; Miss Hammond is abominable. I always 
 talk awfully English with she, and with everybody 
 but you." 
 
 "So I am a kind of angel in disguise if I make 
 you take pains. I'm sure you don't know what that 
 means." 
 
 "An angel in de skies, yes, I understand. But 
 you are not like one." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " You don't dress naked, and sit always on a damp 
 cloud." 
 
 " But I don't mean that kind of an angel." 
 
 "But I saw oh mon Dieu! so many in Paris, 
 and they did all were like that."
 
 48 TANGLED. 
 
 " There are angels out of pictures, little girl" 
 
 " Is that pretty lady with a white dress and yellow 
 hairs, who sits vis-a-vis you at dinner, a angel?" 
 
 " Why, what made you think of her, child ? " 
 
 " Because why, I see her going over to the music. 
 The band will going to be play. I must soon go to 
 bed." 
 
 " Come, little one, we will go back together. When 
 you are a big girl I will ask you to come to the 
 concert with me. Will you come ?" 
 
 " Yes, with plaisir. Will you wait for me to be 
 a lady?" 
 
 "I'm sure I could not do better. But good-night 
 now, child. There is your bonne looking for you. 
 Pleasant dreams!" 
 
 "I will dream about you and the pretty lady, you 
 are both so nice," said Vera, giving Lawrence a part- 
 ing kiss and hug. 
 
 Even for the quick, brilliant, pleasure-loving nation 
 to which she belonged, Vera von Kolatschewski was 
 a remarkably clever, intelligent child. Her short life 
 had been mostly spent in following with her mother 
 the fashionable world to its summer and winter 
 haunts, so her education had begun at an unusually 
 early age. 
 
 Lawrence took very little interest in most children,
 
 OUR HERO LOSES HIS IDENTITY. 49 
 
 but in his solitude at the Hotel des Salines this bright 
 little girl had taken a strong hold on his affections, 
 and he found in her a very amusing companion. 
 
 After the departure of the child, Lawrence betook 
 himself to the neighborhood of the band pavilion, 
 and seating himself at a convenient distance from 
 the music, prepared to take observations of the audi- 
 ence. 
 
 Mr. Conway had exaggerated the decrepit state of 
 his fellow-boarders. Invalids there were, undoubtedly, 
 but their number was well balanced by the gaily 
 dressed, cheerful groups walking about or sitting 
 near the pavilion. Lawrence watched their move- 
 ments with idle indifference. The only person among 
 the assembly, in whom he felt an interest, had given 
 him the cold shoulder on their first interview. He 
 saw her now, this golden-haired beauty who had been 
 so much in his mind of late, promenading with an 
 angular gentleman, whom she was apparently be- 
 witching with her bright smiles and animated con- 
 versation. 
 
 " She seems to be able to talk to other men. There 
 is none of the stiff English miss about her now. She 
 will not even glance toward me. She saw me when 
 she came in, but she won't look my way again for 
 fear she will have to recognize me. Am I branded
 
 50 TANGLED. 
 
 as a scamp, that she has made a vow to avoid me ? 
 I believe I am working myself into a bad temper 
 because a brown-eyed girl refuses to smile on me, 
 and favors a lanky Dutchman instead. This is what 
 comes of having nothing to do. I believe I will go 
 back to Paris, and report myself a wonderful case of 
 cure in a week's time." 
 
 Mr. Couway's meditations were of too gloomy a 
 character to be in keeping with the scene around 
 him. This fact struck him forcibly during the 
 second pause in the music, and with an angry shrug 
 of the shoulders he left the crowd of hollow pleasure- 
 seekers, and finished the evening on his balcony with 
 a cigar and the stars for company.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MR. CONWAY IS PERPLEXED. 
 
 MILY was loitering about, the morning after 
 the concert, picking up stray orange blossoms 
 which had fallen from the boxed trees along the ter- 
 race. Mrs. Frankland was sitting near, on a rustic 
 seat, working at an elaborate piece of English point 
 lace. 
 
 "Mamma, don't you think we snubbed that poor 
 fellow too much at dinner yesterday ? I saw him 
 flush up once, and look really annoyed because we 
 didn't talk." 
 
 " No, Emily, I think we did perfectly right. It is 
 much better to let him see from the very first that 
 we mean to keep him at a distance. He evidently 
 admires you; his glances told that plainly, without 
 his persistent efforts to keep up a conversation he 
 must have seen you were anxious to avoid. It was 
 really a very unpleasant situation; I think we had 
 better have our places at table changed." 
 
 "On no, mamma, that would be too marked!" 
 
 "Marked! My dear, you surely do not suppose
 
 52 TANGLED. 
 
 that a poor brainless fellow would notice the dif- 
 ference of such an arrangement?" 
 
 " I can't tell, of course, whether he would or not ; 
 but it is much better not to have our places changed. 
 Mamma, are you going to sit here all the morning ? " 
 
 " No, dear, only till I have worked round this cor- 
 ner. You take a ramble, if you like, and meet me 
 here again in half an hour. How delicious this 
 orange-scented air is!" 
 
 " Very well, mamma, if you won't come, I suppose 
 I must go alone. If I meet with no adventures, I 
 will be back in the course of an hour." 
 
 "Don't go far, and have nothing to say to that 
 young Count, if you should meet him. Do you 
 hear?" 
 
 " Cela depend, mamma ! " answered Emily, as she 
 laughingly disappeared. 
 
 She was sweetly pretty as she fluttered away among 
 the trees, her light, fluffy curls tied simply back with 
 a blue ribbon, after the rustic, undress fashion of 
 Swiss watering-places. Her pale-blue cambric dress 
 was held up over one arm, showing her pretty feet 
 adorned with transparent stockings and dainty, high- 
 heeled bronze slippers. 
 
 Emily Frankland, in her beautiful home in Devon- 
 shire, was the pet and idol of all who knew her, and
 
 MR. CONWAY IS PERPLEXED. 53 
 
 she had also shone as one of the brightest stars 
 through two seasons of London gaieties ; though her 
 fresh, delicately-tinted face and bright eyes looked as 
 if they had never been exposed to the withering 
 effects of a ball-room. 
 
 She was of the very happy nature that adapts itself 
 easily and contentedly to a change of scene and cir- 
 cumstance. So, in this quiet Swiss retreat, she forgot 
 the monotony of her life, and lived in and enjoyed 
 keenly the beauty of her surroundings ; and on this 
 lovely August morning she was happy as a bird, 
 flitting about the shady paths. 
 
 With very different feelings Mr. Conway was walk- 
 ing along, oppressed with the burden of another day 
 to live through, and finding fault with every mode of 
 diversion that suggested itself. 
 
 Presently a gleam of white seen through the bushes 
 on the lake attracted his vagrant attention, and a 
 scream coming from the same direction quickened 
 his languid pace. He ran to the water's side, parted 
 the bushes, and saw Vera at some distance from the 
 shore, leaning far out of a boat to grasp a floating oar. 
 
 "Vera, be careful!" he cried. "You will be in 
 the water. Sit straight in the boat. Do you hear ? " 
 
 " Oh, how shall I go back to the ground with no 
 oar?"
 
 54 TANGLED. 
 
 "Where is the other oar?" 
 
 " I only took but one ; the other is on the land." 
 
 " You are a very naughty little girl to go out alone 
 on the water, and I believe I will leave you there as a 
 punishment." 
 
 Poor Vera, already much frightened, burst into 
 tears at hearing this threat, and buried her face in 
 her lap. With her light golden curls falling over her 
 bare shoulders like a veil, she looked a very pretty 
 little picture of penitence. 
 
 Lawrence was really perplexed to know how to 
 bring the child back to shore. The one remaining 
 boat was turned bottom upward for repairs, and 
 was, of course, useless. If he went away in search of 
 help, the little girl might make more efforts to rescue 
 herself and fall into the water. There was no one in 
 sight or hearing, so he had resolved to adopt the un- 
 pleasant alternative of swimming out and towing her 
 back, when a simpler expedient suggested itself. He 
 stooped and picked up a good-sized stone, which he 
 threw well out into the water. He saw, to his great 
 satisfaction, that the ripple of waves made by the 
 stone drove the little boat with its light load a trifle 
 toward the shore. By a patient and judicious plying 
 of stones, the little runaway might be brought safely 
 back ; so bidding Vera keep her head down and not
 
 MB. CONWAY IS PERPLEXED. 55 
 
 on any account to move, he began a running fire of 
 stones into the water, a few feet ahead of the boat. 
 
 The lake was one of the prettiest features of the 
 hotel surroundings: graceful willows, interspersed 
 with dark green shrubbery of all kinds, dipped and 
 mirrored their branches around the margin of its 
 placid bosom. The water was dazzlingly clear, and 
 free from all the weedy growths that usually infest 
 such tranquil lakes. Only graceful patches of water- 
 lilies were allowed to flourish nere and there about 
 the stony remains of a river-god who had once 
 proudly overlooked the waters, but who had now 
 fallen into very picturesque decay. Farther out was 
 a pretty little island, the crowning glory of the lake. 
 A tiny flight of marble steps, adorned on each side 
 with a curious-shaped vase, led to a path winding 
 through a brilliant growth of hot-house flowers, 
 orange trees and strange foreign plants, terminating 
 in a little rustic bower, in the window of which an 
 aeolian harp was cunningly concealed. 
 
 Nothing was more delightful than a quiet hour in 
 this little retreat, lulled into idle dreaming by the 
 weird soft music and the faultless beauty of the scene. 
 
 The lake was approached by a shaded path, which 
 in its various windings gave alternate views of the 
 water and undulating lawn, and down this path
 
 56 TANGLED. 
 
 Emily Frankland was going, idly swinging her broad- 
 brimmed hat by its blue ribbon. Suddenly she 
 started and grew pale. Miss Frankland, calm and 
 collected on most occasions, as her countrywomen 
 usually are, became perhaps too impulsive when her 
 sympathies were aroused. She saw the crouching 
 figure of the child in the boat, and the stones sent 
 flying by the supposed lunatic. With a cry of terror 
 she rushed forward and seized the bewildered Law- 
 rence by the arm. 
 
 "If I can only get him away!" she thought, with a 
 beating heart. " What a blessing I came when I did ! 
 In another minute he might have sunk the boat, or 
 killed that poor child. * Do come for a walk with me,' 
 she said, nervously dragging at Lawrence's arm. ' I 
 don't like the water; let us walk toward the house.' 
 Then, seeing him hesitate, she almost screamed in her 
 fright, ( Oh, you must come ! I am afraid to go alone. 
 Somebody is calling you. Oh, do please come ! ' " 
 
 " My dear young lady, calm yourself, I beg of you ! 
 There is nothing " 
 
 " Oh don't speak, but only come." And she broke 
 into a half run, tugging the amazed Lawrence after 
 her, who, too hopelessly bewildered to remonstrate, 
 dropped his remaining stone and allowed himself to 
 be forcibly borne away.
 
 MB. CONWAY IS PERPLEXED. 57 
 
 "Will you let me always here?" cried Vera, in 
 great alarm at seeing the turn things were taking. 
 
 "No, dear; wait there very quietly; don't move 
 till I come back ; I shall not be gone long," Emily 
 answered over her shoulder. 
 
 She hurried away across the lawn, keeping just 
 ahead of Lawrence, and never relaxing for a moment 
 her grasp on his arm. Suddenly an expression of 
 relief broke over her excited face, and darting into a 
 cross-path with a speed that nearly upset Lawrence, 
 she hailed one of the servants, who was carrying a cup 
 of coffee to some invisible person down the path. 
 " Francois, put down the coffee and come here. Never 
 mind, it can wait; you can go back for more." 
 
 As the man approached, Emily stopped, and put- 
 ting a piece of money in his hand, said something 
 hurriedly in a low tone which Lawrence did not un- 
 derstand. She then turned and looked at Lawrence 
 for the first time since their hasty departure from the 
 lake, and said with an imploring expression which 
 added to our hero's confusion still more, " You will 
 go with this man, will you not, please ? " 
 
 Lawrence was devoured with curiosity concerning 
 his fair neighbor's excitement, and a thousand ques- 
 tions sprang to his lips; but seeing the look on her 
 face of painful anxiety to have him start, he restrained
 
 58 TANGLED. 
 
 himself, and moved on with the man, hoping to ex- 
 tract some information from him, as the young lady 
 appeared so reticent. 
 
 Emily, inexpressibly delighted at seeing him really 
 set off, went back to the lake to wait for the servant's 
 return to rescue Vera. 
 
 Lawrence found the servant man incomprehensible 
 as everything else. He looked at the money in his 
 hand with a perplexed grin, stole a furtive glance at 
 Lawrence, looked after the retreating form of Miss 
 Frankland, and then shook his head as though he 
 gave the matter up. Lawrence, anxious to get at 
 some explanation of the mystery, summoned his best 
 French to ask the man what message the young lady 
 had given him. The man seemed to understand the 
 question, but failed utterly to make Lawrence com- 
 prehend his reply. He looked back to where Miss 
 Frankland had disappeared, rubbed his forehead, 
 pointed to the hotel, and said much which Lawrence 
 took in all wrong, and so obtained very little enlight- 
 enment. The two plodded on together, Lawrence 
 anxious to tell his companion that his escort was un- 
 necessary, but not knowing how to say it. When 
 within a stone's throw of the hotel he turned to the 
 man, not wishing to be escorted home in the truant 
 school-boy fashion, and said :
 
 MB. CONWAY IS PERPLEXED. 59 
 
 " Now old fellow, slope ; we are not a sociable pair, 
 and I have had enough of your society. Go!" 
 
 Mr. Conway's meaning was plainly enough ex- 
 pressed by signs; so, after a moment's hesitation, the 
 man looked toward the hotel, then back over the 
 ground they had come, and seeming satisfied, put his 
 money in his pocket and took his departure. Law- 
 rence walked on to the hotel, and going up to his 
 room took his favorite meerschaum from its case, and 
 descending the stairs, settled himself for a smoke on 
 a little side verandah, where he was sheltered from 
 observation by a leafy curtain of Virginia creeper. 
 While he is racking his brains to discover a valid 
 reason for Miss Frankland's attack on him, we will 
 leave him and return to the fair subject of his medi- 
 tations, standing on the bank of the lake. 
 
 By the time help appeared, Mr. Conway's im- 
 promptu waves had driven the boat so near the shore 
 that, by wading out a little, a man seized the boat 
 and drew it to shore without difficulty. 
 
 "Thank heavens, child, you have escaped!" ex- 
 claimed Emily, lifting the little girl out of the boat. 
 
 Vera, thinking she meant from the danger of 
 drowning, answered : " Oh ma chere demoiselle, I was 
 so very afraid ! But why did you tear away the nice 
 gentleman ? "
 
 60 TANGLED. 
 
 " Because he might have killed you." 
 " But he is very aimable, he do not such things." 
 "My dear child, you don't understand; only be 
 glad you are not drowned." 
 " But was he not helping to not drown me ? " 
 "No, you poor little credulous thing. Are you 
 sure he did not hurt you ? " 
 " Oh no, he never do that. Why think you so ? " 
 " Don't stop to ask questions now, little girl, but 
 go back to the hotel with this man, and mind you 
 do not wander any more about the place alone." 
 " Come you not back, too ? " 
 " I am going the way I came. Take care you do 
 not get into trouble again; I might not be there a 
 second time to help you out." 
 
 Emily flew along the winding path, and in an in- 
 credibly short space of time found herself again at 
 her mother's side. She flung herself down, breath- 
 less, under one of the orange trees, exclaiming : " Oh 
 mamma, such an adventure ! You know that little 
 light-haired girl we admire so much? she was out 
 alone in a boat. Darwin arrived just in time I 
 mean, I arrived to stop him throwing stones at 
 her. I bribed one of the waiters to take him back 
 to the house. The poor little thing was in floods of 
 tears ; such a pile of stones he had ready to throw !
 
 MR. CONWAY IS PERPLEXED. 61 
 
 I was trembling all over with fright, when I seized 
 his arm " 
 
 " My dear child, what are you talking about ? Eest 
 a moment and take breath; then, perhaps, I shall 
 understand your exciting story." 
 
 Emily, swallowing her emotion with a convulsive 
 gulp, went on : "I reached the lake just in time to 
 see that crazy creature on the bank, throwing a 
 shower of stones at the poor little girl. She had her 
 face hidden in her lap, and looked the picture of 
 fright. I took hold of the Count's arm and restrained 
 him as well as I could, but at first he seemed very 
 much inclined to resist. I succeeded in drawing 
 him away from the lake, and was leading him across 
 the lawn, when you can imagine my delight at seeing 
 one of the men-servants in the distance. I called 
 him and gave him five francs to take the Count safely 
 back to the hotel and put him in charge of somebody. 
 Don't you think I did quite right, mamma ? " 
 
 " Yes, Emily, you were a great deal more thought- 
 ful than I should have been in a similar case." 
 
 "But, mamma, they all acted so strangely. The 
 man seemed struggling with a laugh, which he dared 
 not let me see or hear. The little girl was not much 
 frightened when I took her out of the boat, and was 
 inclined to wonder why I had sent Count Lemanski
 
 62 TANGLED. 
 
 away. As for the Count himself, his astonishment 
 at what I did was beyond all description." 
 
 " I think, Emily, you need not feel uneasy at what 
 these three people thought, a child, a Swiss servant 
 and a lunatic are all equally useless where presence 
 of mind is necessary, as in an emergency of this 
 kind. I think you acted very bravely." 
 
 "I tried to, at all events. I wonder that servant 
 did not understand better what he was to do. I 
 have seen him about the house ever since we have 
 been here, and he must know the poor Count is an 
 unstable character." 
 
 "The coarse .fellow probably could not restrain 
 his amusement at the lunatic's latest freak. You 
 are sure the little girl was in danger, Emily?" 
 
 " Why, of course, mamma. Didn't I see with my 
 own eyes the stones flying? I do hope they will 
 keep him shut up for a while. I shall be so fright- 
 ened if I meet him again. Do you think we had 
 better mention this to any one, mamma? Perhaps 
 it is better not." 
 
 "I agree with you, my dear. If the little girl 
 was very much frightened, she will, of course, com- 
 plain to her mother, and it will be that lady's duty 
 to have the danger averted, not ours. The poor 
 young man's guardians probably know best when
 
 ME. COJTWAY IS PERPLEXED. 63 
 
 to confine him. The man who took him back to 
 the house will have a long story to tell, you may 
 be sure. I think we had much better say nothing 
 about it. It is not a pleasant subject to discuss." 
 
 "We will let it drop, then, and when I see the 
 Count again I will try and act as if nothing had 
 happened ; but if I have any more such encounters 
 I certainly shall complain, for I am afraid he is 
 more dangerous than any one supposes. Come, 
 mamma, let us go back to the hotel, I feel tired 
 as if I had been walking miles." 
 
 "This must have been a very disagreeable scene 
 for you, my dear, you are all trembling and excited 
 yet. Lean on my arm while we walk back. You 
 will have time to lie down a little and rest before 
 dinner, that will make you feel better. 
 
 "He certainly will not be at dinner, do you 
 think it possible, mamma?" 
 
 " Not if the man gave him in charge, as he prom- 
 ised you he would." 
 
 "I don't think I could sit quietly at dinner to- 
 day opposite that black-eyed creature. He might 
 be" there. I should feel so uneasy all the time. I 
 believe I will not go down." 
 
 "Shall we order dinner in our own rooms to- 
 day?"
 
 64 TANGLED. 
 
 "Yes, that would be a very satisfactory arrange- 
 ment. We can have it early, and go for a quiet 
 walk afterward." 
 
 In retracing their steps to the front entrance of 
 the hotel, the two ladies passed close along the ve- 
 randah where Lawrence was still smoking, but they 
 did not see who was behind the leafy wall. It was 
 well for Emily's peace of mind that she did not 
 see him, for she was at that moment ready to shriek 
 with fright at the mere mention of the name of 
 Count Lemanski. 
 
 Although invisible himself, Lawrence had a full 
 view of all who passed by his retreat. "There goes 
 that most incomprehensible of young women," he 
 said to himself, as Emily and her mother crossed 
 along by the verandah and disappeared. "What 
 wouldn't I give to know what crotchet she has in 
 her pretty head about me! What a fierce little ti- 
 gress she was, as she sprang down and bore me off 
 in her clutches! I was as weak as a kitten with 
 sheer astonishment. And the joke of it was, she 
 wouldn't give me a word of explanation. What did 
 she say to that waiter fellow about me? There's 
 not a soul I can ask about her here that would 
 know. I must manage to find out. When Haskett 
 comes I will try to have the mystery cleared up.
 
 MR. CONWAY IS PERPLEXED. 65 
 
 He is not such an ass about French as I am. I 
 wonder what phase of character the English rose 
 will show next? First, serene and cold as an ice- 
 berg, then, in the heat of excitement, plunges down 
 on a fellow, seizes him in an inexorable grip how 
 those little fingers can pinch! and drags him away 
 from the accomplishment of a good work! By Jove! 
 what has become of Vera all this time?" 
 
 Mr. Conway started up, left his pipe on the seat 
 behind him, and went in search of his little Eus- 
 sian friend.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 HIS PERPLEXITIES INCREASE. 
 
 MILY had so far recovered from the fright of 
 her adventure at the lake as to be able to 
 laugh at the recollection of it on the following morn- 
 ing. She had not seen the Count since giving him 
 in charge of the servant, and she believed he was 
 in safe custody for the present. She took a book 
 with her this morning and walked toward the shade 
 of a wide-spreading lime tree for a quiet half hour 
 alone. Within a short distance of the tree she 
 opened her book, and went slowly along, reading, 
 till, with a start and half scream, she almost stum- 
 bled over Lawrence Conway, who was stretched at 
 full length on the turf at the other side of the tree. 
 He had broken off a branch from the lime tree, and 
 was idly twisting it about, to the frantic delight of 
 a small kitten which had strayed toward him. 
 
 Emily's first thought was to beat a precipitate 
 retreat, but a second glance showed her that the 
 young gentleman was quite calm and docile look- 
 ing. She felt emboldened and reassured, and went
 
 HIS PERPLEXITIES INCREASE. 67 
 
 a step nearer. On seeing her, Lawrence gathered 
 himself up hastily and made an effort to take off 
 his hat, but as that article was lying on the grass 
 beside him, the motion was attended with no re- 
 sult. 
 
 Emily was at a loss, at first, to know how to ad- 
 dress him, but remembering what Winnie had told 
 her about the happy results of conversing with him 
 on his favorite subject, said, with a sweet smile, hop- 
 ing to ward off any unpleasant demonstration on 
 his part: "It cannot be a very dreadful punishment 
 for a soul to be imprisoned in such a pretty, grace- 
 ful body." 
 
 At Lawrence's look of utter bewilderment Emily 
 felt much alarm. 
 
 "To whose body are you referring? if I may 
 ask," he said, eyeing his own comely proportions. 
 
 "Why, the kitten's, of course! You know the 
 bodies of all animals are only the prisons of human 
 souls," Emily ventured, fearing he was not going 
 to prove tractable, and wishing she had not spoken 
 to him at all. 
 
 "Why, the girl's cracked moon -struck mad as 
 a March hare!" thought Lawrence. " I'll try humor- 
 ing her queer ideas. Can she be only joking?" 
 
 " Quite true," he answered, aloud. " It is very
 
 68 TANGLED. 
 
 curious to think that the most insignificant puppy 
 one meets may turn out to be one's best friend." 
 
 "We must be so careful in our conduct and re- 
 marks in the presence of animals. A great many 
 important secrets must have been spread abroad by 
 people discussing them carelessly in the presence of 
 dogs and horses, for instance." 
 
 " I don't doubt it," Lawrence answered, emphatic- 
 ally. 
 
 " Bo you not find it very much against your con- 
 science to eat meat and fowl ? It is almost cannibal- 
 ism." 
 
 " I have no scruples against it," Lawrence replied 
 gravely ; " for when the animal or chicken is killed, 
 the soul is liberated." 
 
 " He reasons as if he had thought a great deal on 
 this absurd subject; and how perfectly he speaks 
 English," Emily said to herself. " Do you still read 
 aloud to the spirit of the donkey ? " she continued, 
 aloud, with a great show of interest. 
 
 "Yes, and I find him very attentive. He listens 
 for hours, and never interrupts with a single ques- 
 tion. There is wonderful concentrative power in a 
 donkey." 
 
 " I wonder if this is the beginning of the flow of 
 eloquence Winnie talked about?" Emily asked herself.
 
 HIS PERPLEXITIES INCREASE. 69 
 
 The attention of the deluded pair was momentarily 
 distracted by the appearance on the scene of a bare- 
 footed, saucy-eyed boy. He was driving a flock of 
 geese across the lawn, giving lively thumps with a 
 hooked stick to those of his charge who were inclined 
 to loiter. 
 
 " Oh, my unhappy sisters ! " exclaimed Emily, clasp- 
 ing her hands and rolling her brown eyes sentiment- 
 ally from the geese to Lawrence. 
 
 " What a sympathetic soul you have," he answered, 
 mentally agreeing with her as to the relationship. 
 
 How exactly Winnie understood his case ! " The 
 poor fellow's brain is completely turned ! " 
 
 "Do you have such fine scenery as this in Po- 
 land ? " Emily resumed presently, trying what effect 
 a change of subject would have. 
 
 " I do not know, I never was there." 
 
 " Indeed ! I had understood you were a Pole." 
 
 " No, I am an American." 
 
 "He is not even clear about his own identity," 
 Emily mused, saying aloud : " I am English. We are 
 almost of the same country." 
 
 " So near, and yet so far," observed Lawrence. 
 
 " What phase of existence do you expect to arrive 
 at next?" pursued Emily. 
 
 "I want to be an angel," he answered, making
 
 70 TANGLED. 
 
 heroic efforts to keep his face straight, but succeeding 
 badly. 
 
 "Does he think of killing himself?" Emily asked 
 herself uneasily. "What strange faces he makes!" 
 
 " Do you find the time pass pleasantly here ? " she 
 asked ; " or had you rather be elsewhere ? " 
 
 " I find it abominably dull, except when some be- 
 nignant angel, like yourself, smiles on me and bright- 
 ens the dark hours." 
 
 " Oh dear, is he going to be friendly ? What will 
 mamma say?" 
 
 " Have you many acquaintances here ? " 
 
 "No, very few; but I am expecting a friend 
 soon, a fellow I went on some excursions with last 
 year ; and when he comes I shall have something to 
 do in looking at all the show-places about here." 
 
 " How nice that will be for you ! Is your friend in 
 human guise ? " Emily asked, with a sweetly innocent 
 expression on her pretty face. 
 
 "When I saw him last he was an unmistakable 
 specimen of the genus homo. He may possibly have 
 changed since." 
 
 "You would be disappointed if he came in the 
 form of a lap-dog, would you not ? " 
 
 " I confess it would interfere with my plans. But 
 I hardly think he would make over well into a dog."
 
 HIS PERPLEXITIES INCREASE. 71 
 
 " What form would he be most likely to take ? " 
 
 " He has been frequently called a brick, and likened 
 to a queer fish, and an old fox. He might appear in 
 any of these forms." 
 
 Is he Polish also?" 
 
 " No, he is an Englishman, about my own age." 
 
 Was he ever a Pole ? " 
 
 " As far as I know, he never was." 
 
 " Do you think he ever will be ? " 
 
 " Not unless you pronounce him a stick." 
 
 Emily glanced up quickly to see if he was making 
 fun of her; but as he had resolved not to be aston- 
 ished at anything this young lady might say or do, 
 his face was imperturbable. 
 
 "Tell me more about your friend. Is he nice? 
 What does he look like?" asked Emily, forgetting 
 that the description could hardly be accurate. 
 
 " He is a very fair sort of fellow, rather too much 
 of a dandy. He has blue eyes, curly hair and red 
 cheeks. Do you like that kind of man ? " 
 
 " I prefer dark men ; but appearances go for very 
 little. Does he dance well ? " 
 
 ' " The girls say he waltzes like oh, like an angel. 
 I believe that is a proper comparison." 
 
 " What a delightful acquisition he will be ! When 
 is he coming ? "
 
 72 TANGLED. 
 
 " Probably in a few days." 
 
 " Is he going to stay long ? " 
 
 "That I cannot tell you. I believe he does not 
 know himself." 
 
 Lawrence here began to think his friend had been 
 sufficiently discussed; so, to change the subject, he 
 said: 
 
 " You seem to enjoy yourself here, Miss Frankland. 
 What is the secret of it?" 
 
 " Oh, you know my name ! Then I shall not have 
 to introduce myself." 
 
 " My curiosity was excited when you came, and I 
 consulted the strangers list, to very good effect, you 
 see." 
 
 "As to whether I like it here, yes, I do. I find 
 the time goes very pleasantly. It is very quiet, of 
 course ; but mamma and I are both fond of walking. 
 I read and practice a little, when I can have a piano 
 in comparative solitude. Then I go to the music 
 every day, and watch what the other people do." 
 
 " Do you find the other people interesting ? " 
 
 " I know very few yet. Are you trying the Saline 
 cure, Count Lemanski ? " 
 
 "Yes. I have something the matter with my 
 head." 
 
 Lawrence wondered how he came by the name of
 
 HIS PERPLEXITIES INCREASE. 73 
 
 Lemanski, with a title, too ; but thought it all of a 
 piece with the other vagaries of the young lady. 
 
 " The poor fellow ! He knows how he is afflicted." 
 And she gave Lawrence a look of heart-felt sympathy, 
 which he utterly failed to understand. "But how 
 sensibly he talks just now ! I had almost forgotten 
 he was mad." 
 
 "Are you going to the concert this evening, Miss 
 Frankland ? The programme is unusually good." 
 
 " Of course we shall go. There is never anything 
 else to do in the evenings." 
 
 " Would you take pity on a poor waif, like myself, 
 and permit him to join you there for a delightful half 
 hour ? You have no idea how lonely I am here." 
 
 "I suppose the poor creature feels neglected," 
 Emily said to herself, and with her tender heart 
 overflowing with pity, she said eagerly: 
 
 " Do come with us whenever you think it would 
 amuse you. I take a very deep interest in you, and 
 should so like to be your friend, and do all I could 
 to make you happy and contented." . 
 
 "You are really too kind!" exclaimed Lawrence, 
 much struck by this burst of candor. " I should be 
 most happy to avail myself of your friendly proposals." 
 
 " I am sure you would be better if you were more 
 with other people "
 
 74 TANGLED. 
 
 Emily stopped suddenly, blushing crimson. 
 
 "Oh, what have I said? I could not have been 
 more foolish! I have deliberately begged him to 
 follow us about, when I knew the consequences might 
 be something dreadful. Oh, how shall I get rid of 
 him, and what shall I do? He spoke so feelingly, 
 and seemed so intelligent and gentle, I quite forgot 
 myself. Oh, Winnie, I wish you had not told me 
 about this horrid creature, and left him to my tender 
 mercies. What shall I do ? " 
 
 Emily, in her confusion, did not know what to say 
 next, and heartily wished to put an end to the inter- 
 view. She was in doubt whether to mention the 
 concert again or trust to the hope that the lunatic 
 would forget about it. Her uneasy cogitations were 
 interrupted by the approach of a man bearing a letter 
 upon a salver. The man bowed respectfully and said : 
 
 "Do I address Mademoiselle Frankland?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Madame Frankland desired me to bring this let- 
 ter to mademoiselle." 
 
 Emily took the letter, and to her great delight 
 recognized the chirography of her devoted friend, 
 Winnie. 
 
 Lawrence concluded that his presence might now 
 be dispensed with, and with a remark to the effect
 
 HIS PERPLEXITIES INCREASE. 75 
 
 that he would leave her to read her letter in peace, he 
 went away in the direction of the hotel. 
 
 "How very considerate of him," thought Emily. 
 " The more I see of him the more I am inclined to 
 forget his infirmity. Now, what does this child say ? " 
 She broke open the letter, which was short, and ran 
 as follows: 
 
 MY DEAR EMILY, I have five minutes' time to 
 write and tell you that that abominable Miss Exham 
 is going to be married in Dresden on the 25th. She 
 is a great friend of ours, you know, and we have got 
 to go to the wedding. This will delay our return to 
 Bex several weeks, as mamma wants to see Berlin 
 while we are in that locality. I'm utterly disgusted 
 with the whole arrangement. Will write particulars 
 when in a better temper. Savagely yours, 
 
 P. S. How do you find Dai-win ? 
 
 For the first time since her arrival at the Hotel des 
 Salines Emily felt low-spirited and unhappy. It was 
 a keen disappointment to her to think that probably 
 her entire stay in that locality would be spent with- 
 out the society of her friend, and she went slowly 
 back to the hotel with very gloomy thoughts, in 
 which Darwin and his unpleasantly social disposition 
 had no share. 
 
 The band was putting itself in proper order for the 
 afternoon, or evening concert, as it was called, and
 
 76 TANGLED. 
 
 there was the usual amount of preliminary thumping 
 and squeaking peculiar to such occasions. 
 
 All that afternoon Emily had declared her inten- 
 tion of not going to the music, but seeing her mother 
 was unusually anxious to attend, she changed her 
 mind. As the tuning of the instruments caught her 
 ear she started up, and said it was time to go. 
 
 " It is much earlier than we usually go, Emily aear. 
 We shall find no one there," Mrs. Frankland remon- 
 strated mildly. 
 
 " So much the better, mamma ; we do not want to 
 elbow our way through a crowd of people." 
 
 It was entirely unlike Emily to want to escape the 
 cheerful assemblage that met to hear the music, and 
 Mrs. Frankland was puzzled ; but she said nothing, 
 and taking her lace work in its much-bedecked basket, 
 followed her daughter out in -the direction of the 
 concert-ground. Furthermore, Emily displayed an 
 unaccountable desire to avoid the seats and prome- 
 nades most frequented by the fashionable part of the 
 audience, and chose instead a bench at some distance 
 from the others, almost invisible behind a laurel bush. 
 Mrs. Frankland was not in favor of such strict retire- 
 ment, but she concluded it best not to demur, as her 
 daughter's temper, ever since the receipt of Winnie's 
 letter, had been much ruffled. Half an hour passed
 
 HIS PEKPLEXITIES INCREASE. 77 
 
 rather slowly, as neither of the ladies were inclined to 
 talk ; after which the empty chairs and walks became 
 alive with people, and the musicians were doing their 
 best. 
 
 Emily was absorbed in watching the movements of 
 Lawrence Conway, who had appeared on the scene, 
 and was wandering about the various groups, appar- 
 ently in search of some one. 
 
 " He will never find me here, thanks to the laurel- 
 bush," said Emily in an undertone. 
 
 Lawrence walked from end to end of the concert- 
 ground several times, and at last attracted the atten- 
 tion of his little friend Vera. She broke loose from a 
 group of other children with whom she was skipping 
 rope, and ran after him. 
 
 " Do you look for the pretty lady you like to speak 
 with ? " she asked. " For I did see her with Madame 
 her mother go to sit on that great bush, over, par la, 
 do you see ? " And the little figure flew back to her 
 companions. 
 
 Lawrence, smiling at the child's quickness of per- 
 ception, turned toward the spot indicated. 
 
 " He is coming this way he has seen us ! He has 
 all the cunning of a madman, or he would never have 
 found us out here." 
 
 But Emily, in spite of herself, could not help feel-
 
 78 TAXGLED. 
 
 ing a kind of guilty pleasure at his approach. It was 
 so dull sitting there away from the other people, and 
 an agreeable, handsome cavalier, even if he was a 
 little cracked, was far better than none. Emily found 
 the half dozen harmless young gentlemen stopping at 
 the hotel very uninteresting. 
 
 Lawrence approached the ladies, and taking his hat 
 off expressed his pleasure at finding them after his 
 long search. He entered into a sprightly conversa- 
 tion, which charmed even Mrs. Frankland, and she 
 forgot herself so far as to laugh and chat at some 
 length in return. Presently a lady, with whom Mrs. 
 Frankland had struck up an acquaintance, joined the 
 group. Emily rose and offered her her place on the 
 seat beside her mother; this afforded Lawrence an 
 excellent opportunity to ask Miss Frankland to stroll 
 about with him a little among the other people. 
 Emily expressed herself willing, and receiving a look 
 from her mother expressive of mingled consent, dis- 
 approval and caution, walked slowly away with her 
 fine-looking attendant. Many were the glances and 
 whispered exclamations of admiration as the well- 
 matched couple wandered up and down the wide 
 lawn. 
 
 " That is a fine selection from ' Don Juan ' they are 
 playing now, is it not, Miss Frankland ? "
 
 HIS PEKPLEXITIES INCREASE. 79 
 
 "It is beautiful the only part of the opera that 
 I care much for. Are you very fond of music, 
 Count ? " 
 
 " I could worship it like a god. What would I not 
 give to be a fine musician ! " 
 
 "Perhaps you will wake up some day and find 
 yourself a great musical genius." 
 
 "That would be a delightful transformation, 
 even under the form of a nightingale, it would not 
 be a bad idea." 
 
 "Are you not sometimes haunted with the fear 
 of being changed into something disagreeable, or 
 horrible, like a toad or a spider," continued Emily, 
 "and perhaps never being changed back?" 
 
 " Some people cannot arrive at a worse state than 
 their natural one." 
 
 " Oh, I don't agree with you ! Now, for instance, 
 when you were an owl, you must have felt a deep 
 sense of humiliation. Was it not so ? " 
 
 " I do not remember my sensations in the least, 
 while in the form of that melancholy bird. In 
 fact, if I could do so without contradicting you, I 
 should declare I never was an owl," Lawrence re- 
 marked, emphatically. 
 
 A finely executed violin solo silenced the young 
 people for five minutes, then Emily resumed:
 
 80 TANGLED. 
 
 "I heard from Miss Evans this morning, she 
 desired to be remembered to you." 
 
 "Very kind of her, I am sure. Pray give her 
 my compliments. I would perhaps send something 
 more, if I had the pleasure of knowing who she 
 was." 
 
 "You have forgotten her, I see; she is a great 
 friend of mine." 
 
 "I should like to know Miss Evans; she must 
 be a lady of very good taste." 
 
 Emily was silent for a while. " I wonder if he 
 will have forgotten all about me by next week, or 
 to-morrow, perhaps? I hope not." 
 
 "What do you think I am most like, Count Le- 
 manski?" she asked, when her dreaming was over. 
 
 " You are the most delightful enigma in the world, 
 one I could study forever" was on the tip of 
 his tongue, but Lawrence restrained himself, and 
 made some commonplace remark about requiring 
 time to answer the question. 
 
 Too much absorbed in each other to notice where 
 their idle footsteps were leading them, Lawrence 
 and his fair-haired companion had wandered far 
 away from the other people. Gradually their con- 
 versation had taken a different turn, equally fool- 
 ish, perhaps, as the foregoing, but more interesting
 
 HIS PERPLEXITIES INCREASE. 81 
 
 to the persons concerned, being that sort of dia- 
 logue in which young people of opposite sexes, who 
 admire each other, are prone to indulge; which, 
 while meaning nothing, verges close on the borders 
 of love-making. 
 
 "Why do you call me 'Count,' Miss Frankland? 
 I have no title, and my name is not Lemanski. 
 I should have told you before, my name is " 
 
 " But I would much rather call you Count Le- 
 manski, let it rest so, will you not?" 
 
 It jarred on Emily to have her companion so 
 soon relapse into his wandering strain, and she felt 
 in no mood to listen to whatever fantastic name 
 he might give himself. 
 
 " So be it," answered Lawrence. " What's in a 
 name ? " 
 
 These few words had the effect of awaking both 
 from their pleasant dream. Lawrence saw that the 
 young girl's thoughts had drifted back into their 
 crooked channel, and Emily remembered, with alarm, 
 that after all her companion was a madman, and 
 they were far from home. " What if he would not 
 let me turn back?" 
 
 But nothing so unpleasant happened, and when 
 she proposed returning, Lawrence, without a demur, 
 escorted her back to where Mrs. Frankland was
 
 82 TANGLED. 
 
 sitting. That lady received her daughter with an 
 air of relief that seemed to say, "I never expected 
 to see you alive again, my child." Lawrence walked 
 back to the house with the ladies, and when he had 
 left them, Emily exclaimed : 
 
 "Oh, mamma! what is it about that man that is 
 so mysterious ? The more I see of him, the more I 
 am puzzled. He was really quite charming to-day, 
 he talked nonsense as well as any of the gentlemen 
 one meets in London, and was so collected and 
 natural. Why can't he always be so ? " 
 
 " My dear child, I am afraid you are letting your 
 sympathies get the better of you. I don't deny that 
 there is something very prepossessing about this poor 
 young gentleman, and for that reason he is all 
 the more dangerous, as in talking to him one is 
 made to forget his weak points. I wish you would 
 not wander off out of sight with him again, as you 
 did to-day. It is not safe, and it will excite remark 
 among the other people. Remember, you have seen 
 him at a disadvantage, the day he was throwing 
 stones at the little Eussian girl, for instance, and 
 the slightest provocation may make him frighten 
 you again. Will you promise me to be more dis- 
 creet, Emily?" 
 
 Emily had been paying very little attention to
 
 HIS PERPLEXITIES INCREASE. 83 
 
 her mother's warning words, and her mind was far 
 away as she answered; but Mrs. Frankland seemed 
 satisfied, and began to talk of other things. 
 
 Lawrence Conway, on his balcony that night, 
 lazily enjoying the moonlight, saw in the wreaths 
 of smoke that curled up from his cigar, the shad- 
 owy form of a beautiful, fair-haired girl, her brown 
 eyes shining on him with a half-frightened, half 
 trustful gaze, and her fair arms extended tenderly 
 toward him, or drawn timidly away with an unac- 
 countable caprice. Far into the night he sat there, 
 till the moon, tired of trying to win his errant at- 
 tention, drew a cloudy veil over her face and stole 
 out of sight. Then he rose, saying over and over 
 to himself, "Why is she not always as she was to- 
 night?" But he was not referring to the moon.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IN WHICH PRUDENCE WAS NOT A VIRTUE. 
 
 BEFORE Lawrence had left his room the next 
 day, a card was handed to him, with the name 
 " Mr. Sidney Haskett," inscribed thereon. " Why, the 
 old fellow's ahead of time, so much the better for 
 me. Show him up, man, and be quick about it " 
 he said to the servant awaiting his orders. In a mo- 
 ment more, a gentleman with a handsome, rather 
 cynical face, entered the room. He had bright blue 
 eyes, a straight, clear-cut nose, crisp, curling, light 
 hair, and a complexion that many a woman might 
 have envied. His figure, though graceful and well 
 proportioned, fell an inch or two below the ordinary 
 height of men, and this was the only point in which 
 Sidney Haskett admitted that he failed. The good 
 opinion he had of himself led him to regard the 
 rest of mankind, and womankind, too, in a very 
 unfavorable light; and it was owing to his exalted 
 ideal of what the future wife of his bosom should 
 be, that his twenty-ninth birthday found him still 
 enjoying a state of single blessedness.
 
 PRUDENCE WAS NOT A VIRTUE. 85 
 
 When there was no one present to admire him 
 (he was an only son, and heir to a fine estate 
 and fortune) he forgot himself, in a measure, and 
 was much more agreeable. It was during a few 
 days spent in Vienna, mostly sight-seeing, and 
 'roughing it' for a month in the Tyrol, that Law- 
 rence had known and liked him. He had yet to 
 discover what he was in polite society. The long 
 chat between the two gentlemen, about mutual 
 friends and past events, has nothing to do with 
 our story, until Lawrence gradually merged into a 
 description of their probable undertakings and 
 present surroundings. 
 
 " There is a young lady here," he went on, " who 
 is a wonderful study. She is very pretty, soft, 
 brown eyes, with blonde hair, a lovely complexion, 
 and the sweetest voice and manners in the world." 
 
 "Why, Con way, it is a clear case of the grande 
 passion with you already ! " 
 
 "No it isn't. Could you fall in love with a girl 
 who is half-witted?" 
 
 " Certainly not. Is your charmer more lacking in 
 brains than most women ? If that were the case, I 
 couldn't get up an interest in her, even if she had the 
 beauty of a Venus and Juno combined." 
 
 "Wait a little, till you see her. One instant this
 
 86 TANGLED. 
 
 young lady of wnom I speak is everything that is 
 charming; the next, she will wander off into a won- 
 derful discussion about the souls of puppies and 
 kittens, and tell you long stories about astonishing 
 cases of transformation, asking your opinion in the 
 gravest way. On the subject of transmigration of 
 souls, she is undoubtedly cracked ; but she is a con- 
 sistent little lunatic, and never rambles on any other 
 topic; and she talks about other things as well as 
 anybody. You must see her, and talk to her. I 
 want to have some one else's opinion about her. 
 Sometimes I think I have been deluding myself all 
 along, and that she is just as sane as I am. But 
 she does say and do most unaccountable things." 
 
 " Oh, I see. You are prepared to fall in love with 
 her, but cannot reconcile it with your conscience 
 under existing circumstances. I am to declare the 
 young lady sane, and in her right mind, and thereby 
 do away with your scruples." 
 
 For some reason Lawrence could not help thinking 
 that Haskett did not seem as nice a fellow as he was 
 before. 
 
 After a comfortable dinner in a cosy little private 
 room, Lawrence escorted his friend out to see the 
 grounds. Their way led past the croquet-ground, 
 where a game was going on between Miss Franklaud
 
 PRUDENCE WAS NOT A VIRTUE. 87 
 
 and her thin admirer, Vera and a white-haired Eng- 
 lish Admiral. Mrs. Frankland was seated at a con- 
 venient distance, overlooking the game with bland 
 interest. 
 
 "There she is, Haskett!" said Lawrence, with a 
 slight pressure of his companion's arm. " The pretty 
 girl in white." 
 
 " Both young ladies answer to your description, 
 blonde-haired, pretty, and with white dresses," Mr. 
 Haskett answered, with a laugh. "But I will give 
 you the credit of having chosen the grown-up one. 
 She is rather pretty." 
 
 "You are altogether too clever, Haskett. But 
 the little girl is not far behind the other, except in 
 years." 
 
 A moment after, Vera, with a triumphant shout, 
 waving her mallet, rushed up and hugged the knees 
 of her silver-haired partner, crying : " Oh, my darling, 
 the play is to we ! Mon Dieu, que je suis contente ! " 
 
 This caused a general laugh, after which the party 
 broke up, and Lawrence took the opportunity to 
 introduce his friend to Mrs. Frankland and her 
 daughter. 
 
 As they were all walking back to the hotel together, 
 Mrs. Frankland was charmed at the discovery that 
 the new-comer knew, intimately, dear friends of hers
 
 88 TANGLED. 
 
 in England. Whereupon she grew quite confidential, 
 and recalled a visit she had made once, in days gone 
 by, at the house of Sidney Haskett's father. The 
 memory of that time made her heart overflow with 
 cordiality toward the young man, and he felt himself, 
 figuratively, taken to her bosom. It was a great piece 
 of good luck, too, she thought, that such a prepos- 
 sessing gentleman should arrive just in time to divert 
 Emily's thoughts from dwelling too much on that 
 unfortunate young Pole. A few hours later Emily 
 was walking by the lake, where by some strange 
 chance Mr. Conway met her. 
 
 " May I row you over to the island, Miss Frank- 
 land?" 
 
 " Oh yes ! I was wanting so much to go out on the 
 water, but was too lazy to row myself." 
 
 " How glad I am that I can be of some use to you ! 
 Have you a choice of boats ? They are both in order 
 now, I believe," Lawrence said, bending over one of 
 the oars. 
 
 In the meantime Emily remembered the last time 
 she had seen him at the lake, and felt frightened. It 
 would be too much risk to trust herself on that 
 broad, deep lake with this man alone. He was a 
 maniac after all, and, much as the refusal cost her, 
 she dared not venture. All this time Lawrence was
 
 PRUDEKCE WAS NOT A VIRTUE. 89 
 
 holding the boat, the "Pe"ri," it was called, so she 
 should not wet her little slippers in stepping in. 
 
 " I believe I won't go," she said hesitatingly. 
 
 " Not go I Are you afraid, Miss Emily ? " 
 
 " No," she said with a blush j " but I have changed 
 my mind. I don't want to go. I might be sea- 
 sick ! " she answered, with another vivid blush at the 
 enormity of this suggestion, on that motionless sheet 
 of water. 
 
 "But you said that you would like to go, and I 
 
 thought " But seeing she was nervously digging 
 
 at the pebbles with her parasol, and biting her lips, 
 not knowing how to answer him, Lawrence left his 
 remark unfinished, and with a light laugh at this 
 abrupt refusal, but feeling hurt an'd disappointed 
 all the same, he got into the boat alone. 
 
 " If you should change your mind, I hope you will 
 call me back, Miss Frankland," he said, as he pushed 
 slowly off in the direction of the island. Emily did 
 change her mind, as soon as the boat left the shore, 
 and she felt much inclined to quarrel with herself as 
 Lawrence glided away, trifling with his oars, as if to 
 be in readiness to return for her if she should still 
 care to come. Should she call him back and go over 
 to the enchanted island ? A faint echo from the harp 
 in the window struck her ear. It was very tempting.
 
 90 TANGLED. 
 
 But no; pride and prudence mastered her, and she 
 did not recall the graceful oarsman, who was furtively 
 watching her from under his eyelids ; till at last, as 
 she turned and resumed her walk on the shore, he 
 bent to his oars and sent the little skiff flying over 
 the smooth water, and was soon out of sight behind a 
 curve in the shore. 
 
 Emily was startled from her unpleasant reverie by 
 a voice saying, almost in her ear: "Do you prefer 
 being alone, Miss Frankland, or may I intrude on 
 your solitude? I hope I have not frightened 
 you ? " 
 
 " No, it is nothing ; but I didn't hear a sound till 
 you spoke. You must have a very light footstep. 
 You do not intrude, Mr. Haskett. I was feeling very 
 tired, bored, and cross with myself, and I am glad 
 you have come to talk me into a better temper." 
 
 "Thank you; you will make me quite proud of 
 myself if you let me think I have the power to chase 
 away your feeling of ennui" Mr. Haskett replied, ac- 
 commodating his pace to hers. 
 
 " Why are you not out on the water, Miss Frank- 
 land ? " 
 
 " I did not care to row myself." 
 
 "An English girl, and not fond of boating ! that is 
 very unusual."
 
 PRUDENCE WAS NOT A VIRTUE. 91 
 
 " But I do like it, and I want to go. Will you take 
 me?" 
 
 Emily had an uncontrollable desire to go over 
 to the island. She glanced uneasily in the direction 
 where Lawrence had disappeared, but no signs of him 
 were to be seen. Then she quieted her conscience 
 with the thought that she had asked Mr. Haskett to 
 row her, and therefore she was not accepting from 
 him an invitation that she had refused from her 
 afflicted friend. After all, it was foolish, perhaps, 
 to trouble herself about it, for the Count would not 
 perceive a slight, as other men would. So, when Mr. 
 Haskett declared himself her devoted slave, to row 
 to the island, or anywhere she pleased, she conquered 
 her hesitation, and stepped into the remaining boat. 
 
 " I'm sorry I have not a larger space to give you a 
 proof of my rowing powers, Miss Frankland. I was 
 considered a very good stroke at Oxford." 
 
 " There is plenty of room to astonish such an un- 
 sophisticated person as myself. It is a pity there are 
 no dangers connected with our voyage that I could 
 admire your skill in escaping." 
 
 " You are not a timid young lady, then ? " 
 
 " Oh yes ! dreadfully so." 
 
 "I must find out in what way, so I can avoid 
 frightening you."
 
 92 TANGLED. 
 
 Mr. Conway, in the meantime, had been exhausting 
 his superfluous energies in a vigorous pull around the 
 lake. Tired with this exercise, he paddled slowly 
 toward one of the clumps of water-lilies doing their 
 best to conceal the wreck of the river-god. He 
 leaned over and gathered a quantity of the finest 
 blossoms and half-opened buds, and piled them up in 
 the bow of his boat. This occupation finished, he 
 sprinkled the flowers thoroughly to keep them fresh, 
 and pulling under the shade of a willow not far from 
 the shore, shipped his oars and tried to stretch him- 
 self for a snooze; but finding a reclining position 
 uncomfortable under the circumstances, he sat up 
 again, and took a note-book from his pocket, the 
 contents of which he began to scan with a fair show 
 of interest. His attention was attracted from this 
 by the even plashing of another pair of oars. 
 
 " So that is your game, my fickle young lady ! " he 
 exclaimed to himself/as he saw the boat containing 
 Emily and Mr. Haskett skimming along toward the 
 island. 
 
 " You can refuse point-blank to go out in the boat 
 with me, and then under my very eyes accept the in- 
 vitation of the next man that comes along. I knew 
 what you said about sea-sickness was all humbug. 
 What an insinuating way that fellow Haskett has
 
 PBUDENCE WAS NOT A VIBTUE. 93 
 
 about him! She seems quite taken with him al- 
 ready," he muttered between his teeth as he saw Mr. 
 Haskett rest on his oars and bend toward his fair 
 companion with an air of admiring attention to what 
 she was saying. Then he answered something which 
 made her turn away with a slight blush and a half 
 smile, and begin to dabble her pretty white hand in 
 the water. "Confound his impudence!" Lawrence 
 thought, and he gave a rueful glance at the water- 
 lilies piled up in the stern of his boat. Is it 
 beneath a man's dignity to quarrel with a half- 
 witted girl? I wish she were not so seductively 
 pretty and interesting. She never smiled as much 
 on me in a week as she has on this fellow in half 
 an hour. She is a capricious little flirt, after 
 all. What an infernal muddle these accounts are 
 in ! " he exclaimed, as he turned again to the note- 
 book. 
 
 While Lawrence was meditating thus, Emily and 
 Mr. Haskett had reached the island and disembarked. 
 They ascended the marble steps, and went on through 
 tbj3 deliciously fragrant path. 
 
 " Oh, don't you know it's ' defended ' to pick the 
 flowers ! " Emily cried gaily, as her companion pulled 
 down a branch of an orange tree and took a handful 
 of the sweet blossoms.
 
 94 TANGLED. 
 
 "I hardly think they will call me to account for 
 it," he answered, confidently. They reached the little 
 flower-grown arbor, and Emily sat on the step bar- 
 ring the entrance. 
 
 " No admittance," she said, looking at him with a 
 provoking smile. 
 
 " Not if I pay toll ? " he asked, arranging the or- 
 ange blossoms in a graceful cluster, and offering them 
 to her. 
 
 " Thank you," she said, fastening them in the 
 bosom of her dress. He then took another spray 
 and dropped it lightly and deftly among the heap of 
 soft curls on her bowed head ; it lodged there as if by 
 magic, and the effect was charming. 
 
 " Orange blossoms are not an appropriate decora- 
 tion for you, but they are vastly becoming." 
 
 " Sit down on that stump, Mr. Haskett. I want to 
 talk to you seriously about your friend. Is there any 
 chance of his poor head being set right again ? He 
 seems so well now I should think his friends would 
 have great hopes." 
 
 Mr. Haskett, stretching himself on the soft grass 
 beside the stump indicated, was astonished to hear so 
 much solicitude on the part of a stranger for an ail- 
 ment on which Lawrence himself had never bestowed 
 an anxious thought.
 
 PRUDENCE WAS NOT A VIRTUE. 95 
 
 " I believe he is rather better," he said, " but as his 
 symptoms never get any worse, they are not alarming." 
 
 "But isn't it bad enough as it is? Just think 
 what his poor mother must suffer! Do you know 
 her?" 
 
 "I saw her once in Vienna. A very handsome 
 woman, and very agreeable, too. She said a good 
 deal about her son's weakness, and hoped the air and 
 water of this place was going to do wonders for him." 
 
 " Is it not a great trial to her to have such a son ? 
 and he an only child, too." 
 
 "I believe she does groan over his shortcomings 
 occasionally, or ought to, at least." 
 
 " Such a handsome young man as he is, and so in- 
 telligent at times! Think what he might be if he 
 had full possession of his reason ! If I had not heard 
 it from the best authority, I could hardly believe he 
 was insane." 
 
 This enigmatical conversation was beginning to 
 clear itself before the mental vision of Sidney Haskett. 
 
 " But he has many lucid moments, and is never 
 dangerous, so his is not a bad case of its kind," Mr. 
 Haskett answered, concealing the smile that would 
 distort the corners of his mouth, by picking at the 
 ivy covering the stump against which he leaned. 
 
 " But all the same it is very sad. The poor young
 
 96 TANGLED. 
 
 man interests me more than I can express. He is so 
 much more like an Englishman than a Pole. I sup- 
 pose that adds to my interest." 
 
 " Your tender heart does you credit, Miss Frank- 
 land. I am sure my poor friend would be immensely 
 flattered if he could know of and appreciate your 
 friendly feeling for him. But suppose we talk of 
 something else ; his affliction is a dreary subject ? " 
 
 " Perhaps I have been indiscreet in mentioning the 
 subject, Mr. Haskett ; you may not like to hear the 
 failing of your friend discussed by a stranger ? " 
 
 " Pray do not say that, Miss Frankland ; no one 
 could mistake your kindly sympathy for annoying 
 curiosity. I can hardly regard you as a stranger; 
 perhaps I ought to, but it seems as if I had known 
 you for a very long time, and it was only yesterday 
 we met." 
 
 Mr. Haskett, for private reasons, wished to keep 
 the conversation away from his friend Conway, and 
 by a few judicious questions succeeded in launching 
 Emily into a long description of her stay at the Hotel 
 des Salines., her life in England, her friend Winnie, 
 and many similar topics. 
 
 Mr. Haskett lounged idly back and watched her 
 through his half-closed eyes, more intent on admiring 
 her pretty face and graceful figure and motions than
 
 PRUDENCE WAS NOT A VIRTUE. 97 
 
 in listening to what she said. This bright-eyed, 
 sunny-haired girl was no half-witted phenomenon 
 such as Conway had represented. On the contrary, 
 she was unusually clever and intelligent. There was 
 some grand mistake somewhere. How it arose he 
 could not for the moment discover, nor did he care 
 to. It was so pleasant lying there on the cool grass, 
 watching his pretty companion talking to him so 
 charmingly. She seemed satisfied with his few lazy 
 answers. If the subject of Conway came up again he 
 would have to exert himself to do most of the talk- 
 ing. He would clear up the misunderstanding later, 
 when his head felt clearer. His thoughts were all 
 wandering now. 
 
 A little breeze had sprung up, and suddenly a faint 
 moaning cry, half human, half ghostly, was heard. 
 
 "What was that!" exclaimed Mr. Haskett, start- 
 ing up. 
 
 " Be quiet a moment," said Emily, softly laying her 
 hand for an instant on his arm. 
 
 Then it came again, very sweet and clear at first, 
 then sobbing itself away in a faint echo. Again the 
 musical sound arose and fell, changed into a joyful 
 tinkling, and died suddenly. 
 
 "Did you never hear an aeolian harp, Mr. Has- 
 kett?"
 
 98 TANGLED. 
 
 " Never but once. There are some in the old castle 
 at Baden-Baden. I had forgotten the sound." 
 
 " It is a melancholy thing, is it not?" Emily said, 
 as another sweep of the magic fingers was heard. 
 
 "Come, let us go back. It makes me think all 
 kinds of gloomy things to-day. 1 will row back, Mr. 
 Haskett; you seem tired, or perhaps it is only 
 laziness." 
 
 "It is neither one nor the other only regret at 
 leaving this very delightful little spot." 
 
 "We will come here again, when there is not a 
 breath of wind." 
 
 "I shall watch the weather closely after this, Miss 
 Frankland." 
 
 They wound their way slowly back, through the 
 luxuriant path, down the steps and into the little 
 boat. 
 
 ".Shall we return directly to laud, Miss Frank- 
 land, or would you like to go around the lake ? I can 
 send this little boat flying, with her light load." 
 
 " Yes, let us have an imaginary race. I want some- 
 thing to stir me up and make me forget that harp." 
 
 They skimmed along with a speed that would have 
 been alarming on any other water. Lawrence watched 
 them from under his shady cover, aroused by Emily's 
 merry laugh. They came nearer to where he was.
 
 PRUDENCE WAS NOT A VIRTUE. 99 
 
 He hoped they would not discover him in his shady 
 retreat, for he felt too hurt and angry to chime in 
 with their gay mood. His hopes were realized and 
 his little nook was not discovered, for within twenty 
 yards of where he lay, the swiftly flying boat struck' 
 against a fragment of the ruined water-god, shot up 
 and capsized. There was a scream and two persons 
 struggling in the water. Mr. Haskett came to the 
 surface instantly, but he seemed dazed and unable to 
 collect his scattered senses. He clung forlornly to the 
 overturned boat, shivering and helpless, and drabbled 
 with mud and weeds. It was his own palpable care- 
 lessness that caused the accident, and perhaps this 
 thought overwhelmed him. It was most fortunate for 
 Emily that a man who could retain his presence of 
 mind in an emergency was ready for her rescue. 
 Quick as thought, Lawrence tore off his coat, sprang 
 into the water, seized her around the waist and lifted 
 her into his boat before she had time to lose conscious- 
 ness. After much shivering and convulsive effort to 
 regain her breath, she ejaculated : 
 
 'lOh, Count Lemanski, how can I ever thank you 
 enough ! You are soaking wet. We are all drowned, 
 what shall we do ? " 
 
 " Get dry things as soon as possible. But, my dear 
 Miss Frankland, don't, I beg of you, waste your
 
 100 TANGLED. 
 
 strength in thanks. You will need it all when the 
 reaction after your fright comes. You are wonderfully 
 brave." 
 
 " Come, Haskett, old fellow, have you got a chill ? 
 Your teeth are chattering like a pair of castanets." 
 
 Lawrence gave him a hand into his boat and the 
 dripping trio were pulled rapidly back to shore. 
 There was a lady in a wheeled chair making frantic 
 gestures to them from the bank, who suggested 
 all kinds of impossible remedies when they landed. 
 But her presence was most opportune in one way, for 
 when Emily tried to step, her wet garments clung to 
 her so tightly that walking was almost impossible. 
 Whereupon the invalid lady insisted on Emily taking 
 her chair to be wheeled back to the house, as she 
 could sit on a bench in the meantime. This kindly 
 suggestion was acted on, and Emily, enveloped in 
 shawls and wraps, was borne away by the lady's at- 
 tendant, and the two gentlemen started off at full 
 speed across the lawn in search of dry garments. 
 Lawrence came back an hour afterward, none the 
 worse for his dip, to review the scene of the accident. 
 The disabled boat had been towed to shore, and seeing 
 there was nothing to be done he was turning away, 
 when the heap of water-lilies in the bow of the 
 " Peri " caught his eye. They were still fresh and
 
 PRUDENCE WAS NOT A VIKTUE. 101 
 
 beautiful as when gathered. He called a gardener at 
 work in the neighborhood, and, pointing to the lilies, 
 gave him some instructions in German, together 
 with a blank card which he took from his pocket, on 
 which he wrote a few words in pencil.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A FALSE FRIEND. 
 
 BEYOND a slight headache, Miss Frankland felt 
 no unpleasant results from her dip in the lake, 
 and it was only to gratify her mother, who begged her 
 to go to bed till even this slight indisposition should 
 wear off, that she did not appear in public again that 
 evening. 
 
 She was sitting up in bed, in the prettiest of lace- 
 adorned night-gowns. Vera was sprawled across the 
 foot of the bed, drumming with her small, white-shod 
 feet against the foot-board, and singing stray little 
 bits of songs, or listening with deep attention to 
 Emily's account of her ducking. In the middle of 
 her story there came a knock at the door, which Vera 
 flew to answer. 
 
 "Oh, Miss Emily! look, look at the beautiful 
 flowers! Bring them in, Maurice." 
 
 The servant carried in and set in the window a 
 gracefully-shaped basket, brimming over with a pro- 
 fusion of water-lilies, exquisitely arranged with a
 
 A FALSE FRIEND. 103 
 
 variety of moss and trailing ferns. There was a card 
 tied to the handle, which Vera eagerly tore off and 
 brought to Emily, who read the words : " To Undine, 
 with the compliments of Count Lemanski." 
 
 " Are they not of my friend who drew you out of 
 the water? he is so gentil" Vera said. 
 
 "Yes, dear. They are very pretty. What a nice 
 idea of the poor fellow ! " 
 
 " Oh, he is so much nice ! better than the small 
 gentleman with so many sharp tooth. May I make 
 your hair, Miss Emily, with some lilies in it? I will 
 not derange the basket." 
 
 "Yes, little one, if it would amuse you; but I am 
 not going to get up this evening, so it will be labor 
 lost, unless I go to sleep in them." 
 
 " Oh, that makes nothing. I go to make you so 
 beautiful ! " With deft fingers the little girl selected 
 some of the smallest blossoms and trailing buds, and 
 wound them in Emily's pretty hair, showing an in- 
 nate taste and artistic love of beauty very rare in a 
 child of her years. 
 
 .. "Oh, but you are an angel now! Look!" she 
 cried, in an ecstasy of delight at her own handiwork, 
 pushing a swinging glass to where Emily could see 
 the reflection of her pretty self. 
 
 " What a little coquette you will be some day, Vera,
 
 104 TANGLED. 
 
 if you turn your taste for decorating other people 
 toward your own little self." 
 
 " Will I be like you, Miss Emily, when I grow to 
 be a great lady ? " 
 
 " I can't tell, Vera ; would you like to be ? " 
 
 " Oh, so much ! But I will tell the nice black-eye 
 gentleman to come and see how I have made arrange 
 his flowers. It will please him many." She was 
 darting out of the room, when Emily caught her by 
 her short petticoats. 
 
 " No, Vera, child, you must not call him. English 
 ladies don't receive visits from gentlemen when they 
 are in bed. The gentleman would be very much as- 
 tonished if you asked him to come to see me." 
 
 " Will you, then, wear more flower in your hairs 
 when you go downstairs to-morrow ? " 
 
 "Perhaps I will. Vera, I'm tired, will you sing 
 me to sleep ? " Emily lay back and closed her eyes, 
 while the child slipped to the floor, clasped her little 
 hands in front of her, and standing at Emily's pillow, 
 sang in a sweet childish voice the plaintive little Rus- 
 sian cradle-song beginning " Sleep, thou infant angel, 
 sleep." She then stole softly out of the room, shut- 
 ting the door noiselessly after her. Emily opened her 
 eyes with a smile when she had disappeared. " Dear 
 little girl ! She is more companionable than half the
 
 A FALSE FRIEND. 105 
 
 grown-up people one meets. But I must not go to 
 sleep with poor Darwin's flowers in my hair. How 
 good of him to rush to my rescue as he did ! The poor 
 fellow seems to be trying to make me forget all his 
 eccentricities by his quiet, thoughtful behavior now. 
 His friend is very agreeable and interesting. I can't 
 decide whether I like him or not; he has a way of 
 looking at one which is sometimes annoying. On the 
 whole, I think I do like him. What with Darwin 
 turning out a hero and Mr. Haskett presenting him- 
 self for a flirtation, this quiet place is becoming quite 
 exciting." 
 
 When Mrs. Frankland came in to see if her daugh- 
 ter was comfortably settled for the night, she went 
 into raptures over the basket of lilies, till Emily told 
 her who had sent them. 
 
 " Count Lemanski ! " she said, as her face fell. " I 
 thought, of course, they were from Mr. Haskett." 
 
 " Mr. Haskett is not so devoted as my crazy friend, 
 you see. mamma." 
 
 "I wish you would not talk in that light way, 
 -Emily; Count Lemanski has you already a great deal 
 too much in his thoughts. But you are tired this 
 evening, I will not give you a scolding." 
 
 " One would have to be very tired and weak, mam- 
 ma dear, not to be able to bear one of your scoldings,"
 
 106 TAXGLED. 
 
 said Emily, patting her mother's cheek; "but what 
 were you going to say ? " 
 
 " I was going to suggest that now Mr. Haskett is 
 here, whom I know to be a gentleman in every re- 
 spect, you need not depend in the very least on this 
 unfortunate Pole for society/' 
 
 "Oh, mamma dear, you need not be alarmed. I 
 am not going to do anything more dreadful than to 
 wear some of Darwin's lilies in my hair to-morrow, 
 to let him know, in the simplest way, that they have 
 been received." 
 
 "Emily, you could not do anything that would 
 annoy me more. I beg of you not to do anything so 
 foolish. It would keep up his interest, and you want 
 him to forget you as soon as possible, I mean 
 Count Lemanski, not Mr. Haskett. Will you remem- 
 ber what I say, Emily ?" 
 
 " We will not talk about it any more to-night, dear. 
 I do feel tired, and want to go to sleep." 
 
 Mrs. Frankland left the room, and Emily fell into 
 a confused dream of Mr. Haskett, raving mad, strug- 
 gling to drown Darwin, with Winnie looking on from 
 the shore in fits of laughter. 
 
 Mr. Haskett's waking dreams that night were 
 almost as confused. He was convinced that Miss 
 Frankland was laboring under a mistake concerning
 
 A FALSE FEIEND. 107 
 
 the identity of Lawrence Conway. Who had told her 
 he was insane, and was it malice or misunderstanding 
 on the part of that person ? He knew that by a sys- 
 tem of cross-examination he might, perhaps, light on 
 the facts of the case. At least he could do his share 
 toward righting the mistake. But did he want it 
 rectified ? In his inmost heart he thought not. This 
 absurd muddle, whatever it was, would not injure 
 Conway in the least, eventually ; and as long as Miss 
 Frankland was afraid of Conway, it left her all the 
 more time and attention to devote to Conway's friend. 
 Mr. Haskett was obliged to stay, probably a fortnight, 
 at the Hotel des Salines, to meet an aunt and cousin 
 who were to stop there for a day on their return from 
 the Italian lakes ; after which he was to escort them 
 back to England. During that time he expected to 
 be much bored. If he could amuse himself by flirting 
 with this very charming girl, who seemed so ready to 
 fall in love with him, why should he not ? It would 
 be a temporary softness, of course, but a very agree- 
 able pastime. Perhaps it was a little dishonorable to 
 -his friend to let the mistake run on, but it would 
 finish in a laugh all round. Possibly he was mistaken 
 himself about the pretty Miss Frankland. He had 
 known her such a short time, she might be the vic- 
 tim of strange flights of imagination, after all. He
 
 108 TANGLED. 
 
 saw plainly that she and Lawrence were quite pre- 
 pared to fall in love with each other if their con- 
 sciences would permit. Should he take the blind 
 from their eyes only to find himself shut out in the 
 cold, with the remainder of his time heavy on his 
 hands ? No, it would be the height of folly to break 
 up the amusing delusion yet. So much absurdity 
 might still arise, and it would be such a capital joke 
 to laugh over with Conway afterward. "I will let 
 things rest as they are for a few days longer. Of 
 course I will not go away and leave them at cross- 
 purposes. When I am gone they can make eyes at 
 each other as much as they please ; but I don't want 
 to see them do it, and the only way to prevent that is 
 to keep up their distrust of each other. I suppose an 
 explanation will come out of itself in a little while. 
 It is really one of the best jokes I ever heard. I can't 
 understand why Conway thinks the young lady half- 
 witted. But I suppose no girl can be natural when 
 talking to a lunatic. The old lady, her mother, seems 
 to be on nettles when Conway is present. By Jove, 
 what humbugs people are ! " 
 
 Mr. Haskett's lips parted in a joyless kind of smile, 
 that seemed more intended to display the faultless 
 rows of white teeth than to express pleasure. 
 
 " Miss Frankland is really a very pleasing girl. It
 
 A FALSE FRIEND. 109 
 
 is best usually to steer clear of the traveling public 
 one meets at continental hotels, but I know these 
 people are well connected. Miss Frankland has all 
 the breeding, without the stiff reserve, of an English 
 gentlewoman. I might have selected a worse spot 
 than the H6tel des Salines for my fortnight's sojourn." 
 
 Mr. Haskett's meditations were temporarily inter- 
 rupted by the process of falling asleep, but they con- 
 tinued, in his dreams, with full vigor ; and when he 
 awoke in the morning it was with the fixed resolve 
 to keep his secret as long as possible. 
 
 As Mr. Haskett's elaborate and, to himself, highly 
 satisfactory toilette was almost finished, a tap was 
 heard at the door, followed immediately by the en- 
 trance of Lawrence Con way. 
 
 "Good morning, old chap!" he said cheerfully, 
 " how are you after your ducking ? " 
 
 " I'm all right this morning, thank you, and, judg- 
 ing by appearances" applying dexterously some 
 scented pomade to his mustache " I should say you 
 were in the same felicitous state." 
 - " But you seemed rather the worse for it last night, 
 Haskett." 
 
 " I wasn't quite up to the mark yesterday, I admit ; 
 though of course I should have rescued Miss Frank- 
 land if I had not seen you bent on being the hero of
 
 110 TANGLED. 
 
 the adventure. She insisted on our going fast, and 
 our coming to grief on that cursed stone was the 
 result. I wonder how she feels after it ?" 
 
 " You need not feel down in the mouth about the 
 accident, Haskett. I sent up this morning to inquire 
 about Miss Frankland. She is not a bit the worse for 
 it, and will probably be out to-day. By the way, 
 what do you think of her ? You seem to have made 
 a very favorable impression. How did she strike 
 you?" 
 
 " She certainly is unlike other girls. If one could 
 forget what she was saying, and only watch her as 
 she talked, she would be a delightful companion." 
 
 "That's my idea exactly. I am sorry you have 
 come to the same conclusion. I hoped I might have 
 been in fault myself, in some way. Kidiculous mis- 
 takes of that kind have happened, you know ; but if 
 you think her insane too, I suppose there is no more 
 to be said on the subject. It is a deuced shame! 
 Haskett, would you like a walk to St. Maurice this 
 afternoon ? There's a cave or some kind of a hole to 
 be seen there. It is only an hour's walk." 
 
 " Not this afternoon, thank you, it's too hot." 
 
 " You are lazier than you used to be." 
 
 " And you, much more energetic. I came to this 
 sleepy little place to rest, and, for a day or two, am
 
 A FALSE FEIEND. Ill 
 
 not going to look at anything if it's all the same to 
 you." 
 
 "Certainly; suit yourself by all means. Only I 
 don't want you to put me down on the invalid list, 
 and therefore unfit for exertion." 
 
 Lawrence put his hands in his pockets an action 
 most soothing to the American mind and straggled 
 aimlessly about the room, wondering if his friend 
 were ever going to finish his personal adornment; 
 but as that gentleman appeared to engross himself 
 more and more in the arrangement of his hair, Law- 
 rence grew tired of waiting, and took his departure 
 alone. 
 
 " When the curls are sufficiently brushed, you will 
 find me down on the terrace," he said, as he closed 
 the door. 
 
 "I will join you there in ten minutes," replied 
 Haskett; adding, to himself, "Confound his imper- 
 tinence! he need not have come bothering here 
 while I was dressing, though the morning is pretty 
 well advanced."
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IN WHICH OUR HERO REFUSES TO BE REASON- 
 ABLE. 
 
 MRS. FRANKLAND is sitting in the drawing- 
 room alone, with her lace-work in hand, but 
 her mind is too much occupied to do justice to fancy 
 work. She is very much troubled at the turn things 
 seem to be taking between her daughter and Count 
 Lemanski. She has observed his way of being present 
 wherever Emily happens to be, and his desire on all 
 occasions to give her a favorable impression of himself. 
 She is also displeased with Emily ; she has not at all 
 kept up that dignified coldness toward the Count 
 which she (her mother) approved of so highly at the 
 beginning. No, Emily was now altogether too affa- 
 ble and friendly toward him, and if her encourage- 
 ment did not cease, he might be emboldened to say 
 or do something dreadful, perhaps make love to 
 her daughter. Oh, horrors! Fancy a raving lunatic 
 lover slamming himself down on his knees, clawing 
 the air, and pulling out his hair by handfuls ! How 
 shocked Emily would be if this should happen ! " I
 
 DUE HERO REFUSES TO BE REASONABLE. 113 
 
 can't see any way to prevent them seeing each other 
 unless we go away, and that would be very disagree- 
 able. We are so comfortable here, the air suits 
 Emily exactly, she never looked better in her life, 
 and it is so unpleasant to travel in hot weather. 
 It is really very perplexing to know what to do." 
 
 The secret of Mrs. Frankland's trouble was the 
 consciousness of her want of control over her daugh- 
 ter. Emily was very affectionate, and obedient as far 
 as it suited her inclinations to be so; but she had 
 much the stronger will of the two, together with the 
 brightest intellect and clearest insight into other peo- 
 ple's characters. She listened to her mother's ex- 
 hortations with respectful attention, but afterward 
 used her own judgment about how much it was 
 necessary to obey; and she rarely went astray, for 
 Mrs. Frankland's timid warnings and commands 
 were often so much waste of breath. She (Mrs. 
 Frankland) had long been used to this state of things, 
 and was never disturbed by Emily's partial disobedi- 
 ence. But in this instance she was astonished at 
 Emily's lack of common-sense, and longed for a will 
 of iron, to bring her daughter to her way of thinking. 
 
 "That accident yesterday has made things much 
 worse. He came to the rescue very bravely, and 
 civility demands that he should seem grateful. One
 
 114 TANGLED. 
 
 cannot turn the cold shoulder directly after receiving 
 such a favor. I wish it had been any one else that 
 had dragged Emily out of the water one of the men 
 about the grounds, for instance; one could have 
 paid him liberally, and that would have been the end 
 of it. It was very unfortunate that Mr. Haskett him- 
 self was not able to save her. Such an adventure is 
 often the beginning of a devotion that lasts for life. 
 It seems impossible to know how to treat this crazy 
 hero, Count Lemanski." 
 
 " Good morning, Mrs. Frankland. I was very glad 
 to hear that Miss Frankland has felt no bad effects 
 from the accident yesterday." 
 
 " Yes, a beautiful morning, thank you I mean 
 What did you say ? I beg your pardon," stammered 
 Mrs. Frankland, much discomfited at the sudden 
 appearance of the man who of all others she least 
 wished to see. Lawrence had stepped in at one of 
 the long windows, and confronted her before she 
 noticed who he was. 
 
 " I said I was pleased to hear that your daughter 
 was not suffering any inconvenience from her bath in 
 the lake yesterday. It was much too sudden to be 
 agreeable." 
 
 " Thank you, she seems well this morning, but I 
 was very much alarmed last night. How can I thank
 
 OUE HEBO REFUSES TO BE SEASONABLE. 115 
 
 you enough, Count Lemanski, for your bravery and 
 presence of mind yesterday?" 
 
 "Pray don't mention it, Mrs. Frankland. I was 
 delighted to be of some use. The dip in the lake 
 was only so much amusement for me, though I fear 
 it was hardly a diversion to Miss Frankluud." 
 
 " Indeed, it was not; Emily was quite upset by it," 
 answered Mrs. Frankland, innocent of the pun. 
 
 "Are you here for your daughter's health, Mrs. 
 Frankland?" 
 
 "Partly," answered that lady, dryly, as she con- 
 sidered the question rather unnecessary. 
 
 "Do you not find her much improved since her 
 arrival here?" Lawrence longed to pursue the sub- 
 ject, and find out how serious a malady Miss Frank- 
 land's was, but he was afraid of hurting the mother's 
 feelings. 
 
 " She is not in need of physical improvement," the 
 lady answered. " I wish I could say the same of her 
 mind ; she is very unmanageable sometimes, and I 
 have so little control over her." Mrs. Franklaiid's out- 
 spoken thoughts filled Lawrence with a vague sorrow. 
 
 " I am glad the old lady is not disposed to be re- 
 served about her daughter's case. I am afraid, from 
 what she says, that it is more serious than I sup- 
 posed."
 
 116 TANGLED. 
 
 " Has your daughter been a source of trouble to you 
 long, Mrs. Frankland, or is it only temporary ? " 
 
 "That is an odd question to ask a mother," she 
 said, with an unwilling smile. 
 
 " She makes astonishingly light of it," Lawrence 
 thought; "but I suppose it is the best way, it saves 
 her a heap of unhappiness." 
 
 " Has it ever been necessary to keep her under any 
 kind of restraint ? " he asked. 
 
 "Often it would have been better, I am afraid; 
 but she is an only child, and I have perhaps been 
 over-indulgent." 
 
 " I suppose few people notice the difference between 
 her and other young ladies ? " 
 
 " She is not like other girls," answered Mrs. Frank- 
 land, mentally conning over a long list of young 
 ladies of her acquaintance, who were patterns of 
 obedience and docility. " But then," she continued, 
 her maternal pride reasserting itself, "there are few 
 I should care to have her like." 
 
 " She certainly is one to eclipse ordinary young 
 ladies wherever she goes, by her interesting pecu- 
 liarity, aside from her great beauty." 
 
 " People are struck with her altogether too much 
 sometimes," said Mrs. Frankland, with feeling. 
 
 " Was she born so ? "
 
 DUE HEEO REFUSES TO BE REASONABLE. 11? 
 
 "Born how?" asked Mrs. Frankland, much be- 
 wildered. 
 
 " With the failing of which we have been speaking?" 
 
 " Oh yes, she has had her own way ever since she 
 was a child. I suppose I ought to have been more 
 severe with her." Mrs.. Frankland wondered why 
 the young man seemed to take such a fatherly in- 
 terest in the training of her daughter, but attributed 
 it to his deranged mind. 
 
 "Mrs. Frankland, you are alone here, at least 
 there is no man to whom you could look for help in 
 case of necessity." 
 
 " Pray, for what cause am I likely to need help ? " 
 
 " I was going to ask," continued Lawrence, in the 
 most deferential of tones, "that if your daughter 
 should become worse and you should need any assist- 
 ance, you would consider me as a friend ready and 
 willing to offer any aid in my power ? " 
 
 " Thank you, but I am quite able to take care of 
 my daughter myself," answered Mrs. Frankland, very 
 stiffly. " I suppose it would be undignified," she said 
 to herself, "to quarrel with the poor half-witted crea- 
 ture, but he certainly is most officious." 
 
 " The old lady doesn't accept my offer in the spirit 
 in which it was made, but her trouble has probably 
 made her irritable, I must not lay it up against her."
 
 118 TANGLED. 
 
 "I am glad to hear she is so little trouble,'* he 
 said ; " she is usually so bright and intelligent, few 
 people would mistrust that her mind was deranged." 
 
 All at once the light strikes Mrs. Frankland. She 
 had heard of blind people insisting that none of their 
 fellow-creatures could see. Here was a similar case 
 of a poor lunatic finding his malady reflected in 
 everybody else. He was with Emily more than with 
 the other people, and he had become possessed with 
 the idea that she was insane, and this explained his 
 strange conversation of the past ten minutes. 
 
 "I will not undeceive him," she thought, "per- 
 haps he will not haunt her so persistently after this, 
 if he is allowed to believe that she is out of her 
 mind." 
 
 This idea had a softening effect on Mrs. Frankland, 
 and she said very cordially : " You are very good to 
 say so, Count Lemanski, and if my daughter should 
 become worse I shall certainly come to you for 
 assistance." 
 
 " The old lady is rather capricious, too, a flighty 
 family, I am afraid." 
 
 "Beautiful weather we are having, are we not, 
 Count Lemanski?" 
 
 " It is all that could be desired. Mrs. Frankland, 
 permit me to tell you that you have mistaken my
 
 OUB HERO REFUSES TO BE REASONABLE. 119 
 
 name. It is only one of your daughter's whims to 
 call me Count Lemanski." 
 
 " But if it does not annoy you I will continue to 
 call you by that name, it is more familiar than any 
 other you could suggest." 
 
 Mrs. Frankland had the same objection that her 
 daughter had on a former occasion, to his wandering 
 off on a list of fictitious names. 
 
 " She is a little weak in the head, too ; there is no 
 doubt about it," said Lawrence, holding open the 
 door for Mrs. Fraukland, who had risen, saying she 
 must go to see if her daughter was in need of any- 
 thing, and resolving mentally to try and prevail on 
 Emily to spend the day in bed. But she arrived too 
 late ; during her absence Emily had dressed and gone 
 out on the lawn, where (well for Mrs. Frankland's 
 peace of mind that she did not know it) Lawrence 
 spied and joined her ten minutes after that good 
 lady's departure. 
 
 " Good-morning, Miss Frankland," he said ; " I am 
 delighted to see you looking so well." 
 
 " I was looking for you, Count Lemanski, to thank 
 you for I can't say saving my life, I was not enough 
 overcome for that, but for your very timely aid." 
 
 " Miss Emily, your mother has just been expressing 
 her gratitude. I will never fish anybody out of the
 
 120 TANGLED. 
 
 water again if I am to be so overwhelmed with 
 thanks after it." 
 
 " Then, for the sake of future unfortunates, I will 
 say no more about it. Wouldn't I be a hard subject 
 to drown if anyone were to try ? I wasn't even faint 
 when you lifted me into the boat. I quite spoiled 
 the romance of the adventure." 
 
 " But you were the kind of heroine that gives very 
 little trouble, and saves people a great deal of fright." 
 
 "I'm sure Mr. Haskett and I both gave trouble 
 enough. How is he this morning ? I have not seen 
 him." 
 
 "He is quite well, and is probably downstairs by 
 this time." 
 
 "Are you sure you are none the worse for your 
 plunge, Count Lemanski?" 
 
 "Of course not. My only unpleasant sensation 
 was the fear that you might be indisposed, but that 
 is at rest now." 
 
 "Mr. Haskett seemed to take leave of his senses 
 yesterday when the boat went over." 
 
 Lawrence took a guilty pleasure in the thought 
 that she perhaps compared Haskett's conduct un- 
 favorably with his own. This permitted him to be 
 magnanimous, so he said : 
 
 "Haskett is a very fair sort of fellow, after all
 
 OUR HERO REFUSES TO BE REASONABLE. 121 
 
 When I saw him this morning he told me he had 
 been feeling quite out of sorts all day yesterday. He 
 is not lacking in bravery." 
 
 "Perhaps not; but how about his presence of 
 mind, which is of more importance ? " 
 
 It pleased the depraved Lawrence still more to see 
 that Emily did not incline to adopt his favorable 
 opinion of his friend. 
 
 The two wandered on over the daisy-starred turf; 
 Emily, with her golden hair, and white dress, seem- 
 ing not unlike the flowers her dainty little foot was 
 crushing. In spite of the virtuous resolve these fool- 
 ish children had made, not to fall in love with each 
 other, there were never two pairs of eyes full of more 
 intense admiration, or two beings more wholly en- 
 grossed with each other, than these two, on this 
 bright morning. 
 
 Emily's grateful admiration for Lawrence had, for 
 the time being, completely transformed her. She had 
 none of that air of anxious reserve usual with her 
 when in his presence, but was perfectly natural, and 
 talked and laughed in a half bantering, half tender 
 way, that drove poor Lawrence almost to the verge of 
 casting prudence to the winds, by falling at those 
 pretty feet and telling her how he loved her. But 
 he restrained himself, and walked by her side in &
 
 122 TANGLED. 
 
 kind of blissful intoxication. After all, what did it 
 matter if she were sometimes unlike other women ? 
 It made her all the more charming in his eyes. He 
 wanted her for himself, not to please other people. It 
 seemed idiocy to hesitate. He would speak and tell 
 her his love. But then, what kind of an answer 
 could he expect ? Only yesterday she had coldly re- 
 fused to go with him in the boat, and five minutes 
 after had gone, under his very eyes, to the spot he had 
 suggested, with another man. That man was that 
 insinuating flirt, Haskett, the deuce take him ! No, 
 he could not hazard his happiness yet. Besides, he 
 would probably repent it the next moment, if he 
 should ask her to marry him. The summer was long, 
 and he would try to be more certain of himself, and 
 her, before he spoke. He felt that he had already 
 won her esteem, if nothing more. 
 
 The change in Emily, of course, made Lawrence 
 appear more in his true light than he had ever done 
 before, and Emily began half to believe that her 
 mother was right after all, and that her peace of 
 mind might be disturbed by this handsome lunatic. 
 
 As they were rambling on, a vigorous gale of wind 
 arose. 
 
 " Oh, how far we are from home ! " exclaimed Emily, 
 looking back with a nervous start.
 
 OUR HERO REFUSES TO BE REASONABLE. 123 
 
 " I hope you are not tired, Miss Frankland. The 
 way seemed so short to me. I selfishly forgot what it 
 might be to you." 
 
 "No, I am not tired in the least; but I think 
 there must be a storm coming up, the wind is quite 
 furious." 
 
 " It will not be any worse than it is now, and this 
 will soon blow over, and then we will go back. I 
 dare not keep you out any longer." 
 
 " Yes, we must go home. Mamma will be shocked 
 at my wandering so far alone without somebody along 
 to play propriety." 
 
 " Lean against this tree, Miss Frankland. It will 
 protect you from the wind." 
 
 As he spoke, a playful gust blew one of Emily's 
 disheveled curls across his breast. 
 
 "Oh dear, I am losing all my hair-pins!" she 
 cried, gathering the remaining hair into a loose knot 
 on top of her head, from where it soon fell rippling 
 down, as she tugged at the stray curl to bring it 
 within bounds. 
 
 "Wait a moment, Miss Frankland, it has caught 
 around this button, you will hurt yourself." Law- 
 rence made a poor feint and failure to disentangle the 
 pretty hair. 
 
 " I must try something else," he said, taking a pen-
 
 124 TANGLED. 
 
 knife from his pocket and cutting the curl loose from 
 the button, coolly leaving an inch or two of the silky 
 hair in his own hand, whence it was conveyed for 
 safer keeping to an inner breast pocket. 
 
 " Thank you, Count. This is another example of 
 your presence of mind," she said, with a bright smile 
 that gave another stab to Lawrence's deluded heart. 
 
 She seemed innocent of his theft ; whether she was 
 really, or only pretending, Lawrence could not decide. 
 
 When they turned to go back, Emily broke off a 
 spray of jasmine that hung over the path, and 
 fastened it in her belt. In doing so, Lawrence's gift, 
 the water-lilies, flashed through her mind. 
 
 " Count Lemanski, will you refuse to be thanked 
 for the lovely flowers you sent me last night ? " 
 
 " How can I refuse, if you persist ? " 
 
 " Did you gather them yourself? I was so pleased." 
 
 Lawrence wished she had shown her admiration of 
 his flowers by wearing some of them in her hair. She 
 was very fond of adorning herself in that way, and 
 this was the first morning he remembered seeing her 
 wearing no flowers. But he did not give utterance to 
 his thought. 
 
 " I thought afterward the lilies would, perhaps, be 
 too suggestive of your unwelcome plunge. I might 
 have chosen more appropriate flowers."
 
 OUB HERO REFUSES TO BE REASONABLE. 125 
 
 " No, indeed. I would not like any others better. 
 They are so beautifully arranged, and will keep their 
 freshness longer than other flowers." 
 
 On nearing the house, Emily saw, through the 
 trees, her mother slowly advancing toward them, as 
 if in search of somebody. She had evidently not seen 
 her delinquent daughter ; so Emily, seizing Lawrence 
 by the arm, and pushing him slightly forward, said : 
 " Go on, straight before you. Don't follow me." She 
 then turned and quickly disappeared down a wind- 
 ing path which led to the hotel. 
 
 Lawrence obeyed half the command. He did not 
 follow Emily, but instead of going straight ahead, he, 
 too, avoided Mrs. Frankland, by turning off abruptly 
 through the trees before she had discovered him. 
 
 When Lawrence was left alone, he began to think 
 that he had been a hot-headed fool to let himself be- 
 come so enamored of this pretty English girl. All 
 her sweet, bewitching ways, and her beauty of form 
 and feature, were overshadowed by the sad fact that 
 she was insane. Even before her mother had con- 
 fided in him, Lawrence could not persuade himself 
 that she was not. He really must be more reason- 
 able, or else go away. And strange as it may seem, 
 he had not now the slightest wish to leave the Hdtel 
 des Salines.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 VERA MAKES AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY. 
 
 IN a retired corner of the Hotel des Salines was a 
 complete little apartment of three rooms, situ- 
 ated on that elevation which is called the entre-sol, 
 being midway between the ground floor and the first 
 story. The larger of these rooms, which was fur- 
 nished as a sitting-room, looked out on a little paved 
 court, surrounded on two sides by vine-covered stone 
 walls; the other sides being filled in by the brick 
 walls of the next building. 
 
 There was none of the tasteful decoration and 
 ornament which was lavished on other parts of the 
 hotel visible in this quiet little spot, but in its simple 
 neatness and order it had an attraction of its own, 
 which betokened anything but neglect. There was a 
 high, wooden plant-stand, in the form of steps, under 
 the sitting-room window ; a few flower-pots on one of 
 the lower shelves. The stand was pushed up against 
 a heavy, clinging ivy, whose ancient, wooded arms 
 and dark, thick leaves, had taken the whole side of 
 the house in its strong embrace. The windows of
 
 VEBA MAKES AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERT. 127 
 
 these three little rooms were curiously seamed from 
 top to bottom with slender white bars, which any one, 
 examining closely, would have discovered to be of 
 solid iron, painted white. The outside approach to 
 this court was through a small, dark passage, branch- 
 ing off from the stone archway that formed the en- 
 trance to the stables. 
 
 The guests of the hotel were, of course, never 
 seen in these obscure regions, and if any one had 
 noticed the little white-robed figure that stole noise- 
 lessly under the archway, with eyes wide with aston- 
 ishment to find herself in unexplored ground, she 
 would have been taken back, without ceremony, 
 to the brighter side of the picture, where she be- 
 longed. But no one noticed her, and Vera, leaving 
 the arched gate, peered cautiously into the narrow 
 passage. She saw light at the other end, and, half 
 hesitating and wholly curious, she ventured in, and 
 soon found herself in the quiet little court already 
 described. She wandered about the enclosure, and, 
 finding nothing there to interest her, was turn- 
 ing to come away again, when a peal of laughter 
 behind the iron bars startled her and riveted her 
 attention. This was repeated again and again, ac- 
 companied by the crashing of broken glass. Vera's 
 curiosity was all excited; she forgot her alarm and
 
 128 TANGLED. 
 
 her usual politeness, and climbed to the top of the 
 flower-stand. From the top of this it seemed such 
 a little distance to where the sound came from, that 
 she made a ladder of the thick, twining ivy trunk, 
 and drew herself up till her head was on a level 
 with the window-sill. Six inches higher, and her 
 big, startled blue eyes were peering into the room, 
 and, with her little fingers tightly clutching the iron 
 bars, she watched, unobserved, a grotesque game of 
 nine-pins that was going on within. 
 
 A pale young man, with wild, dark eyes and long, 
 straggling, black hair, attired in a red and black 
 dressing-gown, with an embroidered slipper on one 
 foot and a torn silk stocking on the other, was 
 sitting on the floor opposite nine wine-bottles in 
 various stages of demolition, standing in a row, 
 into whose midst he sent spinning a loaf of brown 
 bread. 
 
 Every stroke told with startling effect. The bot- 
 tles fell over with a crash, some of them, half full, 
 pouring their contents in streams among the bits 
 of broken glass. After every stroke the eccentric 
 player set up a shout of childish laughter, writhing 
 himself to and fro in his delight, and then, scram- 
 bling on all-fours to recover the bread and set up the 
 remaining bottles, took his position for another shot.
 
 YEEA MAKES AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERT. 129 
 
 Vera watched this pastime in amazement, till she 
 felt her tired fingers relaxing their hold of the bars 
 and she was forced to let herself down to the ground 
 again. 
 
 "That was the poor crazy young man mamma 
 was speaking of; but she told me I must not talk 
 about him. I will not tell her I have seen him, 
 she might be angry," she said to herself. 
 
 When she reached the ground, she saw with dis- 
 may the dreadful destruction of her white dress and 
 slippers. "Oh mon Dieu! what will Annette say? 
 Tant pis! it is nothing. When I come again I 
 will speak to the young man. Perhaps he would 
 like to have some one to play with him." 
 
 Mr. Conway took a long walk alone that afternoon, 
 and on his return found two letters awaiting him, 
 one from his mother, full of anxious inquiry about 
 his health, the other from his banker in Geneva, re- 
 questing his immediate presence there on business. 
 A week ago Lawrence would have hailed with delight 
 any cause that would remove him from the Hotel des 
 Salines. Now that it seemed expedient in more ways 
 than one, he was most unwilling to go, and as he 
 re-read his letter he consigned Geneva bankers in 
 general to a very warm locality. He tried to cheat 
 himself with the thought that it was Haskett's pres-
 
 130 TANGLED. 
 
 ence that made his stay at the hotel more agreeable ; 
 but after all, he and Haskett were very little together. 
 There was no denying the fact that this golden- 
 haired girl was taking possession of him, heart and 
 soul. He might reason with himself and take a 
 common-sense view of the case twenty times a day, 
 but in her presence he always found himself for- 
 getting her eccentricities, and seeing in her only a 
 wonderfully fair, seductive woman, whom he could 
 fall down and worship. 
 
 He knew he was wandering in a fool's paradise, 
 but he did not want to grow wise yet, and this 
 Geneva letter was a rude interruption to his idle 
 dreaming. 
 
 Mr. Haskett walked down to the station the next 
 morning with Lawrence, as he went to take the 
 train for Geneva. 
 
 "Are there any errands I could do for you in 
 town, Haskett?" 
 
 " No, thank you ; I shall be going that way my- 
 self before long. When will you be back ? " 
 
 " I shall not be away more than a couple of days." 
 
 "Does any one know you are going?" 
 
 "No. Give my compliments to Miss Frankland, 
 and tell her I hoped to say good-bye, but my train 
 goes too early."
 
 VEBA MAKES AN IMPOBTANT DISCOVERT. 131 
 
 "I hope your affairs will turn out all right." 
 "Oh, there's nothing wrong, I imagine. I'm off 
 now, good-bye, Haskett." Lawrence shook hands 
 with his friend through the railway carriage window, 
 and was out of sight in a moment 
 
 As Mr. Haskett walked back alone he felt a cer- 
 tain sense of satisfaction. He had let the deception 
 go on so long now that it would be really very awk- 
 ward if the discovery came about before he intended 
 it should. The deceived pair might not, perhaps, 
 view it in the light of a joke. Miss Frankland might 
 be offended, and he so particularly wished that young 
 lady to have a good opinion of him. The fact was, 
 Mr. Haskett, after much consideration, had made up 
 his mind to propose to Emily Frankland. It was 
 hardly probable that she would refuse such a very 
 advantageous offer; and if the little misunderstand- 
 ing about Lawrence should be brought to light in- 
 advertently, the part he had played in it would be 
 forgiven in an accepted lover. But he meant to do 
 his best to keep the mystery from being cleared up, 
 at least, while they were all together there. It would 
 not be such a difficult thing to do. The four people 
 most concerned mixed very little with the other 
 boarders, so there was little danger to be apprehend- 
 ed from themj three of these people had not the
 
 132 TANGLED. 
 
 least suspicion of any mistake, and he, the fourth, 
 was certainly not going to excite their suspicion. 
 There was that chattering child, Vera, who might 
 bring about an explanation, but no one attended, 
 however, to what she said, fortunately. He (Haskett) 
 was only to be at the hotel about a week longer. 
 Two dangerous days were tided over by Conway's 
 absence. The Franklands would not be staying 
 much longer, and Conway himself would leave soon. 
 Conway was a good enough sort of fellow, but Mr. 
 Haskett never once thought of him when he was 
 out of sight, and, married and settled in his home 
 in Surrey, he would never hear of him again, unless, 
 perhaps, his wife might sometimes speak in a com- 
 passionate tone of Count Lemanski! Fortune had 
 favored him wonderfully so far, he would be very 
 dull if he had not Emily's heart in his own keep- 
 ing before she discovered that it was not folly to 
 admire Conway. But she was not going to discover 
 anything of the kind 
 
 A flower woman presenting her basket for his 
 inspection interrupted the current of his thoughts. 
 
 "Where did you get such fine gentians, my good 
 woman ? It is early for them." 
 
 " High up, monsieur, on the Dent du Midi" 
 
 " Was it much of a climb ? "
 
 VEEA MAKES AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY. 133 
 
 " Not much for me, but monsieur could not do it." 
 " Haven't you seen enough of English people yet to 
 know that they can walk anywhere ? " 
 
 " Is monsieur English ? I am astonished ; mon- 
 sieur speaks French so well, one would not suppose 
 it." 
 
 " You expect an extra franc for that compliment, 
 do you not ? " 
 
 " It is as monsieur pleases." 
 
 " Make me up a nice bunch of gentians and wild 
 roses. You need not mix in any garden flowers ; I 
 can get plenty of them at the hotel." 
 " Monsieur will take myosotis for the lady ? " 
 " How do you know they are for a lady, bavarde 1 " 
 " Monsieur would not buy roses for himself." 
 " When you can get any edelweiss bring it to me. 
 I want to send some to my friends in England. Do 
 you hear?" 
 
 " Monsieur is very amiable. I will not forget." 
 " Put in some more of those white buds. There, 
 that will do. There is something to buy a pair of 
 shoe-buckles." 
 
 The woman extricated the five-franc piece from the 
 loose flowers in her basket, reciting a fervent prayer 
 for the generous stranger, while Mr. Haskett con- 
 tinued his way to the hotel. As he entered the
 
 134 TANGLED. 
 
 grounds he met the object of his thoughts, Emily 
 Frankland. 
 
 "You return early from your walk, Mr. Haskett. 
 Have you been far ? " 
 
 " Far enough to find these flowers. Do you think 
 them worth accepting, Miss Frankland ? I got them 
 for you." 
 
 "Did you take the trouble to gather these, and 
 for me ? I feel very much flattered. It is not easy to 
 find gentians about here unless one is a very ener- 
 getic climber. I did not think you cared much for 
 that kind of exertion." 
 
 " You think I am very indolent, lazy and generally 
 good for nothing, do you, Miss Emily?" 
 
 " Certainly not; I never thought so, and if I had I 
 would have to change my opinion now." 
 
 " I wish all my faults in your eyes could be cleared 
 up as easily." 
 
 "But I have not been condemning you for any- 
 thing ; what do you mean ? " 
 
 "Oh, nothing, I was only dreaming; but I had 
 rather you found fault with me than not think of me 
 at all." 
 
 There was a soft look in his usually steel-like blue 
 eyes as he said this, which was easy to interpret, and 
 Emily felt her voice tremble slightly as she said :
 
 VERA MAKES AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY. 135 
 
 " I have a piece of news to tell you, Mr. Haskett." 
 
 "Indeed! What is it?" 
 
 "There is to be a grand ball given here next 
 Thursday." 
 
 " In the village, do you mean ? " 
 
 " No, here at the Salines. Doesn't that interest 
 you ? " 
 
 " Very much, if I am here on that evening." 
 
 "But you are not thinking of going away, Mr. 
 Haskett?" 
 
 " I was thinking of it. My plans will not permit me 
 to stay much longer ; otherwise I should not think of 
 leaving for a long time yet. It is very delightful 
 here." 
 
 " But you must stay till after the ball." 
 
 " Do you want me to stay ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, of course. There are so few gentlemen 
 who dance well, that it is the duty " 
 
 " Is that the only reason why you want me to stay, 
 so that I can offer my services for the general good, 
 as the musicians and other ball-room furniture offer 
 theirs?" 
 
 " If I say there are other reasons why I want you to 
 be at the ball, will you stay?" 
 
 " I will, Miss Emily, let the consequences be what 
 they may."
 
 136 TANGLED. 
 
 " If you talk so seriously I shall insist on your go- 
 ing. It is just possible that the gossips have said 
 more than is true about the ball, but I think it cer- 
 tainly will come off on Thursday." 
 
 " It is no more than ought to be done for the diver- 
 sion of the pilgrims here. By the way, Mr. Con " 
 
 Just in time the speaker bethought himself; he 
 had almost spoken his friend's name. Furthermore, if 
 he mentioned the fact, even, of Count Lemanski hav- 
 ing gone to Geneva alone, it would excite comment. 
 He would trust to luck to have his absence explained 
 some other way, so Con way's message to Miss Frank- 
 land should not be conveyed, and he would say noth- 
 ing about his departure. 
 
 " What were you going to say, Mr. Haskett ? You 
 did not finish your sentence." 
 
 " I was going to say that Mr. Campbell, the light- 
 haired Scotchman, seemed to be a tolerable dancer." 
 
 " Yes, he is not bad. Why don't you honor our 
 little dances in the back drawing-room with your 
 presence more, Mr. Haskett? You came once, to 
 show us how well you could dance, and then deserted 
 us." 
 
 " Dancing, for the sake of dancing, I never enjoy ; 
 it is a giddy, unpleasant exercise. But in a hand- 
 some ball-room, radiant with wax tapers and brilliant
 
 VERA MAKES AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY. 137 
 
 costumes, with intoxicating music to stir one's blood, 
 dancing becomes a pleasure, especially if there are 
 good wines and edibles to refresh one afterward. I 
 detest an impromptu dance, with somebody grinding 
 spasmodic waltzes out of an ill-used piano. The 
 game is not worth the candle." 
 
 "I am afraid the ball here will not be grand 
 enough to suit you, Mr. Haskett." 
 
 " I shall not forget that it is an effort on the part 
 of a landlord to please a miscellaneous public, and I 
 will not be too critical." 
 
 At a turn in the avenue Emily and her companion 
 met Vera walking with her little brother, and Ann- 
 ette. The child left the nurse and baby, and ran for- 
 ward to meet Emily, enthusiastically admiring her 
 flowers. 
 
 " Mr. Haskett has given them to you, n'est-ce-pas, 
 Miss Emily ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Haskett has been so kind." 
 
 " I saw a woman with such flowers in a basket 
 did you bought them of she, Mr. Haskett?" 
 
 " Vera, you are altogether too inquisitive," he said, 
 less angry than he would have been had he not seen 
 that Emily's attention was engrossed by the son and 
 heir of Madame von Kolatschewski, and she had not 
 heard Vera's remark.
 
 138 TANGLED. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Haskett, I see such a funny thing yester- 
 day. I have not said it to no one, for I cannot find 
 Mr. Con way ; but I went on a vine, high up to a win- 
 dow, and such a man with long hairs, and eyes like 
 crazy stars, was rolling hisself on the carpet, and 
 kicking bottles with a bread. He is a poor crazy 
 gentleman, I heard my mamma tell some lady; his 
 name is Count Lemanski." 
 
 "What does she say about Count Lemanski?" 
 Emily asked, attracted by the name, and permitting 
 the nurse and baby to continue their walk. 
 
 "Vera talks too much for a little girl," answered 
 Mr. Haskett hastily, before the child had time to 
 speak again ; " she had much better go and play with 
 the other children than to spend so much time chat- 
 tering with older people. Do you see your nurse is 
 getting almost out of sight ? Bun after her or you 
 will have to go home alone." 
 
 Vera, much hurt and astonished at her dismissal, 
 and the cold reception of her absorbing story, obeyed 
 without a word, giving one disdainful glance at her 
 oppressor. 
 
 "You are not fond of children, I see, Mr. Has- 
 kett/' Emily said, as soon as the little girl was out 
 of hearing. * 
 
 "I am quite indifferent to children usually, but
 
 VERA MAKES AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY. 139 
 
 I can't endure that child," Mr. Haskett answered, 
 more angrily than he intended to. " She is so for- 
 ward, and vain." 
 
 "She is forward in one sense, her intellect is 
 far ahead of. her years. As for her vanity, I think 
 she has wonderfully little, considering every one 
 admires her without reserve. She never makes her- 
 self noticeable unless some one encourages her to 
 talk. Most people delight in her quaint sayings." 
 
 "The way she muddles up her English is some- 
 times amusing." 
 
 " She is just as odd when she talks other lan- 
 guages. I think she is a wonderfully good child, 
 considering all the spoiling influences against her." 
 
 "I believe strongly in the old saying that chil- 
 dren should be seen, and not heard." There was 
 an unpleasant expression on Mr. Haskett's face, 
 caused by the revelation just made. The truth had 
 flashed across him as Vera finished her story. 
 There was, confined somewhere in the hotel, a lu- 
 natic by the name of Lemanski, with whom, by some 
 misconception, Emily and her mother had identified 
 Lawrence Conway. Mr. Haskett had long suspected 
 the existence of some such person, and now this 
 chattering little girl had enlightened him. She was 
 the last person in the world whom he would have
 
 140 TANGLED. 
 
 chosen to make the discovery, for of course she 
 would tell her story to Miss Frankland, and then 
 the murder would be out. Miss Frankland was so 
 absurdly fond of the child, he wished he could 
 contrive some way of keeping the two separated, 
 but nothing occurred to him. Perhaps he could 
 frighten Vera out of telling her secret to any one 
 else. It was really becoming vexatious to keep up 
 this ridiculous hoax any longer, but it would not 
 do to have the explanation come yet. In his cold, 
 calculating way, Sidney Haskett loved, as well as 
 admired, the girl he meant to ask to be his wife, 
 and the thought of another man stepping in and 
 bearing off the prize, that was so nearly within his 
 grasp, was gall and bitterness to him. 
 
 "I believe I'll find out some more about that 
 crazy fellow from the little white-frilled humbug," 
 he said to himself, as Miss Frankland took leave 
 of him at the foot of the stairs. Vera, who was 
 never hard to find, was discovered on a little bal- 
 cony off the dining-room. 
 
 " Where did you see the strange young man, you 
 were telling me about, Vera?" asked Mr. Haskett, 
 coming out on the balcony with a cigar in his 
 mouth. 
 
 Vera had not forgotten his manner when she
 
 VERA MAKES AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY. 141 
 
 last saw him, and she was not disposed to be con- 
 fidential again. 
 
 "It was far away, you could not go there," 
 she said. 
 
 "Will you tell me where it was?" 
 
 "No, you would break the flower steps." 
 
 "Just as you like, Vera, but if I were you, I 
 would not tell any one you had seen this young 
 man." 
 
 "My mamma said me not to speak of him, 
 but I will tell only Miss Emily, and Mr. Conway." 
 
 "I think you had better not." 
 
 "Why for?" 
 
 "Because they would think you were a prying, 
 inquisitive little girl. Do you understand that?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "It means something very bad. When any one 
 is ill, like that poor young man, people don't talk 
 about him. Mr. Conway and Miss Emily would be 
 shocked to hear it." 
 
 " And cross like a bear ? You were when I told 
 you, but they are good, and not never cross. Do 
 you see that little bird-nest on the vine up there?" 
 
 "Yes, do you want it?" 
 
 "You are not long enough, you can't reach to 
 it."
 
 142 TANGLED. 
 
 "Yes, I can," he said, stretching up and detach- 
 ing the nest with some difficulty. " Now, Vera, we 
 are friends again, are we not?" he said, handing 
 her the nest. 
 
 "As much as always," the child answered. 
 
 When he had gone, she threw the nest over the 
 balcony railing. "Why does that man scold me, 
 and look angry, when other people are kind ? The 
 nest makes me think of him. I would rather think 
 of some one else."
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 WHAT WAS IN A BOTTLE. 
 
 MR. CONWAY'S visit to Geneva was unevent- 
 ful and uninteresting in the extreme, except 
 for one little transaction at the jewelry establish- 
 ment of Messieurs Patek and Philip, on the Grand 
 Quai. He left there a little curl of soft, fair hair, 
 to be made into a ring of fit proportions, to fit the 
 little finger of his own left hand. It would be a 
 souvenir of a few of the brightest hours of his life, 
 he said to himself, "a fellow don't have so much 
 happiness in this world that he can afford to for- 
 get any of it." 
 
 His more common-place errands, connected with 
 various banks, occupied more time than he had 
 supposed necessary, and it was not till three days 
 after his departure that he was able to return to 
 Bex. 
 
 He arrived at the Grand Hotel des Salines about 
 three o'clock in the afternoon. It was a beautiful 
 day, and most of the guests who could accomplish 
 it had taken advantage of the fine, cool weather, 
 
 143
 
 144 TANGLED. 
 
 and gone on an excursion of pleasure, or annoyance, 
 according to companions chosen. 
 
 There was, however, one little bright-eyed damsel 
 left to give the wanderer a welcome, and Vera's 
 exuberant delight at seeing him again atoned in a 
 great measure for the absence of other friends. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Conway, I have been desolee since you 
 go away! "Where did you went, and why did you 
 not take me too ? " she said, putting her mite of a 
 hand in his. 
 
 " I would have taken you if I had thought you 
 wanted to go. I had a lonely kind of a time in 
 Geneva." 
 
 "What did you make in Geneva?" 
 
 "I didn't do anything that would interest you. 
 I saw such fine shops, diamonds and beautiful things ; 
 enough to bury a little girl like you so deep that 
 no one could ever find her again." 
 
 " I have been in Geneva. It is nice.'' 
 
 " Do you like to open bundles, Vera, and find 
 things inside for yourself?" 
 
 "Oh yes!" 
 
 "Well, open that, and see if you like it," he 
 said, taking a mysterious looking bundle from his 
 satchel. 
 
 "Why did you bring to me an ugly black bot-
 
 WHAT WAS IN A BOTTLE. 145 
 
 tie ? " asked Vera, when she had opened the bundle, 
 looking up at him with a half amused, half disap- 
 pointed smile. " Is there anything in it ? " 
 
 "Set it down on the ground and see." 
 
 She obeyed; whereupon was heard issuing from 
 the bowels of the bottle a lively air from "La Fille 
 de Madame Angot" followed by half a dozen other 
 favorite melodies. Then, with much grunting and 
 quivering, the musical bottle relapsed again into 
 unattractive silence. 
 
 " Oh, mon Dieu ! what a lovely singing angel, for 
 a black bottle! Is it for me, vraiment? I am so 
 obliged. And I said it was ugly ! " she said, hugging 
 the squatty, vulgar looking bottle up to her bosom. 
 
 " Now I can make scare everybody. Oh del ! but 
 that will be a fun!" 
 
 " Where are all the other people, Vera ? " 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 "Why are you not out with Miss Emily? She 
 usually likes to have you with her." 
 
 " Miss Emily and Mr. Haskett have gone walking 
 4n a carriage." 
 
 "Does Miss Emily like Mr. Haskett? " 
 
 " Oh yes ; she make sweet eyes at him, and is glad 
 when he comes. I don't like Mr. Haskett" 
 
 "Why not?"
 
 146 TANGLED. 
 
 "He has got some bad, wicked eyes. He tells me 
 to go to play with the children, and his eyes say, ' Go 
 to the devil!'" 
 
 " Why, Vera, little girls don't swear in English ! I 
 am quite shocked." 
 
 " Was that a swear ? Miss Hammond tell me some- 
 thing about what was ' to swear,' but I have not much 
 understand. Must I not say 'damned swindle?' " 
 
 " You little reprobate ! where did you learn such 
 bad words ? " 
 
 " I have heard many gentlemen say them.' 
 
 " That is no reason why you should. You must 
 forget your ' swears ' as soon as possible, and never say 
 any of them again." 
 
 "Mr. Con way, why does Miss Emily wear the 
 flowers Mr. Haskett give her in her hair, and not 
 wear the pretty lilies you send?" 
 
 " I suppose she likes Mr. Haskett's flowers best." 
 
 " When she was in her bed the night she fell out of 
 the boat, I made her beautiful with the lilies in her 
 hair. I would go to bring you to admire, but she said 
 me that she did not want you to know that English 
 ladies went in beds. Does she like Mr. Haskett best ? 
 You are much nicer. Why don't she like you more ? " 
 
 " My dear child, you are altogether too much of a 
 catechist. How can I answer all your questions?"
 
 WHAT WAS IN A BOTTLE. 147 
 
 Lawrence answered with a laugh; but the child's 
 prattle had raised a feeling very akin to jealousy in 
 his heart. Of course he was not going to trust too 
 much to the chatter of a child, but was Haskett 
 serious in his attentions to Miss Frankland? It 
 seemed hardly possible with his fastidious ideas. 
 Could he be so reckless as to beguile her into loving 
 him ? It might be the finishing touch to overthrow 
 her unbalanced mind, when he went away. " I believe 
 I will ask him what he means. I introduced him, 
 and should never forgive myself if he turned out a 
 scamp." 
 
 "What are you thinking of, Mr. Con way? You 
 look so triste" 
 
 " I was thinking how hungry I was, Vera, and that 
 if I did not get something to eat in five minutes, I 
 should die, or else find out if little Russian girls were 
 good to eat." 
 
 " May I sit with you while you have dinner ? " 
 
 " Yes, if it would amuse you." 
 
 As the oddly matched pair were sitting at a little 
 round table, outside under the trees, Lawrence asked : 
 
 "Did Miss Emily and Mr. Haskett go alone in 
 the carriage ? " 
 
 " Alone, except a man did sit behind. They went 
 in a small, low carriage."
 
 148 TANGLED. 
 
 "Then Mrs. Frankland did not go?" 
 
 " No, she stood up on the balcony and throw them 
 a shawl, and prayed them not to be out late. There 
 was not place for her in the carriage, I suppose." 
 
 "Strange," mused Lawrence, "that her mother 
 should allow her to go out alone with him. I am an 
 American, and there would be nothing unbecoming 
 in her going out alone with me; yet I might ask 
 in vain for such a favor. The fates are certainly 
 against me. I wonder if Haskett is going too far ? " 
 
 "What have you said, Mr. Conway?" asked a 
 small voice whose existence he had almost forgotten. 
 
 ".Nothing, Vera. I must take a tender farewell of 
 you now, for I must go and put myself in a salt 
 pickle to get the dust off." 
 
 From his window, two hours later, Lawrence 
 watched the return of Miss Frankland and Mr. Has- 
 kett from their drive. She was all brightness and 
 smiles, and Lawrence watched his friend with another 
 jealous pang as he handed her out of the carriage. 
 "I wonder if I have been an over-cautious idiot 
 about that girl, or is Haskett daring too much ? I 
 will ask him what he means, if I do get myself into 
 a scrape." 
 
 "Haskett!" he called from the balcony railing, 
 " come up and have a smoke."
 
 WHAT WAS IN A BOTTLE. 149 
 
 "So you are back again, Con way," Mr. Haskett 
 said, as he came into his room five minutes later, 
 and settled himself in the only easy-chair the room 
 afforded. " What delayed you ? " 
 
 " One of the confounded fellows I had to see was 
 out of town. I had to wait till he came back." 
 
 " Did you find things all straight ? " 
 
 "Oh, fair enough. Nothing has been going on 
 here, I suppose, since I left ? " 
 
 " Oh no ; we have all been quiet as mice." 
 
 "Has Miss Frankland developed any new and 
 startling ideas?" 
 
 " Nothing more than usual." 
 
 " You have had good opportunity for observation." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean that you and she seem to be having what 
 would be called between sane people quite a flirtation." 
 
 When Lawrence dismissed Vera, he had gone to 
 the reading-room, where, in a conversation with Mr. 
 Campbell, the Scotchman, that gentleman had in- 
 formed him, together with much other gossip, that 
 the people of the hotel generally supposed Miss 
 Frankland and Mr. Haskett to be engaged. He had 
 not put much faith in this alone, but, taken in con- 
 junction with what Vera had said, he felt there was 
 cause for uneasiness.
 
 150 TANGLED. 
 
 " It is a fortunate thing we are not sane people," 
 drawled Mr. Haskett, in reply to Lawrence's last 
 remark, as he lazily watched the curls of smoke 
 swaying over his scented locks. 
 
 " What would you do, Haskett, if the fair lunatic 
 were to fall in love with you?" 
 
 "Return the tender passion, I suppose." 
 
 " Do you mean to say you would ask a woman to 
 be your wife whom you knew to be half crazy?" 
 
 " My dear fellow, what's the use of talking so se- 
 riously ? Who is going to give a moment's thought 
 to the few soft nothings exchanged between two peo- 
 ple who are thrown together for a few days at a hotel ? 
 I confess I admire Miss Frankland ; she amuses me, as 
 a score of other girls I could mention amuse me." 
 
 " But Miss Frankland is not like other girls, you 
 must remember." 
 
 "On some subjects she is sharp as a dozen girls. 
 She is not one of the kind that dies of a broken 
 heart. She is such a capricious, unstable little thing, 
 that one would never dream of talking of anything 
 serious with her. But this is absurdity, Conway, 
 to talk of what she is, or is not, with you. You 
 know her quite, as well, and better, than I do. As 
 far as flirtation is concerned, I think we are both 
 in the same boat."
 
 WHAT WAS IN A BOTTLE. 151 
 
 " She never went driving with me alone." 
 
 "Did you ever ask her?" 
 
 "No, for I knew it would be of no use." 
 
 " Going out with me alone counts for nothing here. 
 It could not be done in England ; but English people 
 on the continent are much less strict in their ideas." 
 
 " There are few English girls who would go out for 
 an afternoon alone with a gentleman, even on the 
 continent, unless they were engaged." 
 
 "There you are mistaken, Con way. In a quiet 
 place like this, Mrs. Grundy has very little to say. 
 English girls can be almost as unrestrained as your 
 fair American sisters. Besides, Miss Frankland is 
 very unlike the ordinary English girl." 
 
 " I think you forget that too much." 
 
 "Conway, I appreciate your motive in speaking, 
 and shall not take exception at what you say. You 
 have heard some of the gossip of the hotel, and want 
 to warn me not to go too far. I beg of you not to 
 trouble yourself with any more of these foolish ideas. 
 I certainly would never marry a lunatic, and I flatter 
 myself I am a man of too much honor to entrap a 
 girl's affections and then throw them away. Miss 
 Frankland is not such a tender, susceptible creature 
 as you think. There is not the slightest cause for 
 uneasiness, no matter what the gossips may say."
 
 152 TANGLED. 
 
 Lawrence could not deny that his friend's inten- 
 tions seemed harmless, but, as he went downstairs, 
 he was conscious of a vexed, dissatisfied feeling which 
 he could not define. 
 
 There was some one playing a selection from 
 " Lohengrin " in the back drawing-room. Lawrence 
 guessed it was Miss Frankland, and, on entering the 
 room, was not disappointed. 
 
 "Oh, Count Lemanski! where have you been all 
 this time? I have not seen you for several days." 
 
 " Didn't Haskett give you my message, and tell you 
 I had gone to Geneva?" 
 
 " No, he did not give me any message, nor say any- 
 thing about you. Poor fellow," she said to herself, 
 "I suppose he has been shut up for some misde- 
 meanor for the past few days, and he is trying to ac- 
 count to me for his disappearance. I wonder Mr. 
 Haskett did not tell me anything about him. I never 
 like to ask him about poor Darwin, he always seems 
 anxious to avoid the subject." 
 
 " It is very strange that he did not tell you," con- 
 tinued Lawrence ; but then he remembered that Has- 
 kett might have told her and she had forgotten all 
 about it the next moment. 
 
 "May I have the pleasure of joining you at the 
 music this evening, Miss Frankland ? "
 
 WHAT WAS IN A BOTTLE. 153 
 
 " I am afraid that is impossible, as Mr. Haskett is 
 going to take mamma and me boating on the river 
 this evening. We shall not return until the music is 
 over." 
 
 "You are going to trust yourself again on the 
 water with him?" 
 
 "Yes, I am going to be so daring. Perhaps you 
 will walk along the shore, to be ready, in case of 
 necessity, to offer your assistance," she said with a 
 merry laugh. 
 
 " I am afraid Mr. Haskett would think me de trop" 
 
 A voice outside was heard calling "Emily!" 
 
 " Mamma is looking for me, so I must go. Good- 
 bye, Count Lemanski; I shall see you to-morrow." 
 She left the room with a careless nod and smile, while 
 Lawrence sat for a long time on the sofa, a prey to 
 his own gloomy thoughts. 
 
 How everything seemed to have changed in the 
 last three or four days! He had gone away living 
 over again the hours passed with Emily, and thinking 
 their delightful rambles and tete-a-tetes, in which he 
 was so foolishly happy, and she too seemed pleased, 
 might be repeated over and over again on his return. 
 He was not really in love with her, of course that 
 could never be ; it was more a kindly, brotherly feel- 
 ing pity, perhaps. But then pity is akin to love,
 
 154 TANGLED. 
 
 and in his case the connection was very close. He 
 knew they could not go on wandering about the 
 grounds and smiling into each other's eyes forever. 
 A few short weeks more, and then the dream must 
 end ; but perhaps by that time they would have come 
 to their senses, and then the separation would not be 
 so hard. But the end seemed to have come abruptly 
 now, and without having committed any offense 
 Lawrence felt himself cast off and left behind. Has- 
 kett, the new-comer, had supplanted him and gained 
 the first place in Emily's thoughts, by a little reck- 
 lessness of possible consequences, a place that he, 
 Lawrence, might still have occupied if he had not 
 been so stupidly prudent and considerate. He had 
 been fool enough to look forward with pleasure to 
 Haskett's arrival but what kind of a companion 
 had he been? He had not made any of the trips 
 they had planned together, and never tried to make 
 himself agreeable, except when Miss Frankland was 
 present. It seemed to Lawrence as if these two 
 Mr. Haskett and Miss Frankland felt his presence 
 to be a disagreeable restraint. Emily's manner had 
 changed wonderfully toward him since he went to 
 Geneva, and Haskett was, if possible, more indifferent 
 than ever. Perhaps it was only imagination, at any 
 rate he believed he would try a change ; he was get-
 
 WHAT WAS IN A BOTTLE. 155 
 
 ting low-spirited again, and out of sorts generally. 
 He thought he would go away for a while, and per- "" 
 haps at the end of ten days or a fortnight there 
 would be a different set of people at the hotel, and he 
 would manage to get up an interest in some of them. 
 He certainly would not stay here to watch and hear 
 about the progress of the flirtation between Miss 
 Frankland and Haskett On such thoughts intent, 
 he made his way to Mr. Haskett's room, and found 
 that gentleman subjecting his finger-nails to a careful 
 course of pruning. Without desisting from this oc- 
 cupation, he begged Lawrence to be seated. 
 
 " How much longer are you going to be here, Has- 
 kett ? if I may ask." 
 
 " Probably a week longer." 
 
 " Then I won't see you when I come back." 
 
 " Are you going away again ? " Mr. Hasketfs face 
 was not one that often expressed pleasant emotions, 
 or he would have looked delighted at this suggestion. 
 
 "Yes, I am bored to death here. I shall go to 
 Chamonix, and perhaps take a look at the Holy Barn- 
 yard, as Johnston calls the St. Bernard monastery/' 
 
 "I have been to that far-famed place. You will 
 find it a nice trip if the weather is propitious." 
 
 " It will not be very inspiriting, starting out alone 
 _ as I do ; but I shall of course fall in with somebody
 
 156 TANGLED. 
 
 on the way. I suppose you have no desire to leave 
 the Salines long enough for a trip to Chamonix, Has- 
 kett?" 
 
 " I should like to go, very much ; but I have got to 
 be on the move so soon with those cousins of mine, 
 that I think I will keep quiet here while I can. 
 Chamonix is very hard work. Conway, there is to 
 be a ball here ; do you care anything for that ? " 
 
 " I care so much that I shall take particular pains 
 to escape it. When is it ?" 
 
 " Thursday evening." 
 
 " That will suit me exactly ; I am going Wednes- 
 day morning." 
 
 " If I shouldn't be here when you come back, you 
 know where you can always find my address, but I 
 need not give you any parting injunctions yet, I 
 shall see you again before you go." Mr. Haskett was 
 so pleased with Conway for taking himself out of the 
 way so opportunely, that he greatly astonished that 
 gentleman by an overflow of cordiality and amiability 
 up to the hour of his departure.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 A LOSS, ATTENDED WITH MUCH GAIN. 
 
 IT was the evening of the ball at the Hotel des Sa- 
 lines. Before the revel grew to its height, a 
 pretty group might have been seen occupying one 
 of the flower-decked ante-rooms. Mrs. Frankland, 
 dressed in a pale gray moire antique, with rich lace 
 gathered about her plump, fair hands, and lying in 
 cloudy folds over her ample bosom, her snowy hair 
 adorned with a graceful fall of the same delicate fab- 
 ric, held in place by a white camellia surrounded by 
 its dark green leaves, is talking confidentially to Mr. 
 Haskett. He, rigid in swallow-tail and patent leather 
 boots, with immaculate cravat and gloves, is watching 
 the two brightest figures in the scene, sitting on the 
 opposite sofa, apparently engrossed in each other. 
 
 Emily, in clouds of white tulle, is like a pure lily. 
 Her dress is caught up at intervals with graceful sprays 
 of myosotis, a treble string of pearls encircles her soft 
 white arms, and another droops low on her lovely^ 
 neck, and more are twined in her pretty, golden hair. 
 Her companion on the sofa is her little friend Vera, 
 
 167
 
 158 TAXGLED. 
 
 dressed in a richly embroidered white India muslin, 
 stopping just above her bare knees. Her round, rosy 
 legs are bare to the ankle, where her attire begins 
 again with silk stockings and white satin slippers. A 
 broad white sash is tied below her waist, and her 
 pretty light hair, short over the forehead and long 
 behind, is divided by a row of pure white daisies. She 
 is allowed to be at the ball for the first two hours, 
 and her delight knows no bounds. 
 
 "No, he will not be permit to come at the ball, 
 Miss Emily." 
 
 " Are you sure you saw Count Lemanski shut up 
 in a room with barred windows, Vera ? " 
 
 "Yes, much times; I go there quite very often. 
 He makes strange things." 
 
 " What does he make ? " 
 
 " He rolls hisself round about and laughs." 
 
 " He does strange things, you mean." 
 
 " Yes ; is not do and make all same ? " 
 
 " Not always ; but I could never explain the differ- 
 ence to you." 
 
 " Will you come and do him a visit, Miss Emily ? 
 You could hang your hands to a tree that grimpers 
 on a house; then there are some steps that see into a 
 window." 
 
 " Your description is very inviting, Vera, but I do
 
 A LOSS, ATTENDED WITH MUCH GAIN. 159 
 
 not want to see the poor young man when he is not 
 well ; you ought not to go there so much, it is not a 
 proper place for a little girl." 
 
 " What are you two talking about so earnestly ? " 
 asked Mr. Haskett. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Emily, je vous prie, ne dites nothing of 
 what I tell you ! He tell me I must not say nothing ! " 
 Vera exclaimed, seizing Emily's arm with her little 
 white-gloved hand. Emily was a little astonished at 
 the child's vehemence as she answered: 
 
 " We are talking secrets, you must not interrupt." 
 
 " What a wonderful fancy your daughter seems to 
 have taken to that little coquette of a child," observed 
 Mr. Haskett to Mrs. Frankland. 
 
 " She is an odd little girl. I hope she will not be 
 spoiled by all the notice she gets. What a lovely little 
 fairy she is to-night ! " 
 
 " It is ridiculous, the idea of a baby like that being 
 allowed to come to a ball ; her mother must be insane 
 to allow it." 
 
 As the music of the second waltz struck up, Mr. 
 Haskett gave his arm to Mrs. Frankland, while Emily 
 and Vera followed them into the ball-room. There 
 was less sameness in the appearance of the guests 
 than in most such entertainments. Persons having 
 friends stopping at the other hotels in Bex had been
 
 160 TANGLED. 
 
 requested to invite them, and the result was an assem- 
 blage of people from all the stray corners of civilized 
 Europe and America, and the modes of dancing were 
 varied as the people. Springy, agile Frenchmen were 
 spinning through the waltz, rippling over with smiles 
 and talking incessantly as they danced; Russians, 
 darting like lightning through the thickest of the 
 crowd, with a miraculous power of saving their part- 
 ners from the slightest graze from the other whirling 
 couples. Dignified Englishmen, plodding steadily 
 ahead, bent on making their way once round the 
 room, indifferent to the number of bumps and collis- 
 ions encountered on the way. Solemn-visaged Amer- 
 icans, ambling slowly about in retired corners of the 
 room, with their hands resting on each others' shoul- 
 ders, either for mutual support or to keep each other 
 off, the gentlemen showing a tendency to double up 
 at the knees, as if they found the exercise too severe. 
 Among all the gay throng, the Germans seemed best 
 to appreciate the poetry of dancing ; and as they glided 
 swiftly and easily down the long hall, the spectator 
 found himself involuntarily charmed by their grace- 
 ful movements. 
 
 The evening wore on, and an hour after midnight 
 Mr. Haskett and Emily went into the conservatory 
 for a little rest and fresh air.
 
 A LOSS, ATTENDED WITH MUCH GAIN. 161 
 
 " Do you ever visit your friend in his prison, Mr. 
 Haskett ? " Emily was saying. 
 
 No, I never have." He was afraid to commit 
 himself by saying more, not knowing what Emily 
 might have heard. 
 
 " It is a great pity he has to be shut up to-night, 
 I think this gay scene would do him good." 
 
 " How did you hear he was shut up, Miss Emily ? " 
 
 " Vera has discovered in some way the room where 
 he is confined ; she saw him to-day. By the way, she 
 told me not to say anything about it to you, so you 
 must not betray me. It is dreadful to think of the 
 poor fellow caged like a wild beast to-day, when only 
 the day before yesterday he was as calm and sane as 
 we are." 
 
 " So Vera told you she saw Count Lemanski a pris- 
 oner in his barred room. Does ever anything hap- 
 pen here, I wonder, that that child does not know all 
 about?" 
 
 " You do not like to have his confinement talked 
 about?" 
 
 " Would you, in my place ? " 
 
 " I am always talking about Count Lemanski, and 
 I know it always annoys you. I will speak of some- 
 thing else." 
 
 Mr. Haskett was congratulating himself that the
 
 162 TANGLED. 
 
 last stumbling-block in his way had been removed 
 that enfant terrible had done him a great service. 
 She had kept her secret just long enough, and in tell- 
 ing about Count Lemanski after Lawrence had gone 
 she accounted for the latter's absence in a most satis- 
 factory way. Mr. Haskett could not have done it 
 better himself. 
 
 " What a bore it is to be always among these crowds 
 of chattering strangers ; do you not often wish your- 
 self back where you heard only your mother tongue, 
 Miss Emily?" 
 
 " No, I find the variety charming, though I wish 
 some of the scenes in the changing panorama were 
 more lasting. Probably when I have traveled as 
 much as you have, Mr. Haskett, I shall think as you 
 do." 
 
 "I believe you are right. I have been away too 
 long; going home would be very delightful under 
 some circumstances." 
 
 " Mamma tells me you have a very beautiful home." 
 
 " The place is admired, and, I believe, not unjustly ; 
 but the place is dreary and cheerless, as a house with- 
 out a mistress always is. I have thought of this, 
 and have often wished my home was brightened by a 
 woman's presence ; but I have never seen the woman 
 I would call my wife till now. I will not keep my
 
 A LOSS, ATTENDED WITH MUCH GAIN. 163 
 
 secret any longer, perhaps it is not a secret. I love 
 you, Emily, as I never loved any one before, and if 
 you refuse to be mistress of my heart and home, both 
 will go very long without a tenant." 
 
 Emily was not astonished at this disclosure, as 
 she could not help seeing it was impending for sev- 
 eral days, but she was not prepared to answer, and 
 only picked nervously at the superb bouquet of flow- 
 ers Mr. Haskett had given her earlier in the evening. 
 
 " You don't answer ; but I must give you time. 
 You will not keep me waiting long ? " 
 
 "Till to-morrow," she answered in a low voice, 
 without looking up. 
 
 "Till to-morrow," he repeated, touching her one 
 ungloved hand with his lips, and, drawing it through 
 his arm, conducted her back to the ball-room, from 
 which, an hour afterward, the persons most connected 
 with this history had disappeared. 
 
 To return to the fortunes of Lawrence, or misfor- 
 tunes, as they happen to be in this instance, which 
 were brought about in the following way : On leaving 
 the Hotel des Salines he gave up the idea of stopping 
 off at Martigny (the point from which one proceeds 
 per mule-back to Chamonix), and went on to Saxon 
 instead. Saxon being a miniature Baden-Baden, or
 
 164 TANGLED. 
 
 Monaco, and the only place in Switzerland where 
 gaming-tables flourish, Lawrence had great curiosity 
 to see the playing, and of course to try his luck. He 
 played small stakes and won almost incessantly at 
 rouge-et-noir, and then, with a dozen or so extra napo- 
 leons in his possession, experimented at roulette. Here 
 he was not so fortunate ; he lost all his winnings and 
 twenty-five napoleons besides. He was then wise 
 enough to stop playing and give up trying to leave 
 off where he had begun, which is the fatal error of 
 most casual gamblers. 
 
 With an intense feeling of disgust for gambling- 
 rooms in general, and those of Saxon in particular, he 
 went out into the garden to drink a cup of coffee and 
 cognac, and listen to the music. It was growing 
 dusk as he left the Mablissement, and when he next 
 had occasion to use his purse he found that some pick- 
 pocket had relieved him of all his remaining money, 
 except a few francs loose in his pockets that would 
 little more than pay for a room and supper at the 
 hotel. " It was a shabby trick to rob a fellow after 
 he had lost at that confounded table," he said to him- 
 self; " if I had won a pile of money there might have 
 been some justice in it." 
 
 He reported his loss at a police station, but with 
 very little hope of recovering his money, and taking
 
 A LOSS, ATTENDED WITH MUCH GAIN. 165 
 
 a room at the Hotel Bellevue, went to bed, in a rage 
 with himself and his surroundings. He could not do 
 otherwise than return ignominiously to Bex the next 
 day, and wait at the Hotel des Salines till another re- 
 mittance came from Paris. This thought was most 
 distasteful to him ; he wanted to forget Bex and ev- 
 ery one there if he could, and now he was forced back 
 among them all. Then he would have to account for 
 his sudden return and find himself the subject of 
 abominable jokes for days. He would stay in Saxon 
 till after the ball at the Salines, at any rate ; he would 
 not be bored with that, or with questions about his 
 absence.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 
 
 WHEN Emily went down to breakfast, at 
 eleven o'clock, the morning after the ball, 
 she found the dining-room deserted. She took her 
 place and began her lonely meal, thinking of Mr. 
 Haskett, and what he had said to her last night, and 
 feeling a sense of relief that he was not in the dining- 
 room ; for she did not feel courageous enough to talk 
 to him yet. She supposed when she did answer him 
 it would be to say "Yes." Then they would be en- 
 gaged, and engaged people always seemed silent and 
 dull. She wished he had not spoken so soon. She 
 felt rather afraid of him now, and all their delightful 
 flirtation was at an end. Engaged people never flirt- 
 ed, except with other people, and this kept one or the 
 other of the engaged couple always in a bad temper. 
 She wondered if engagements always seemed so dull. 
 Her mother would be disappointed if she refused 
 him ; and why should she say no ? There was really 
 no reason that she could think of. Her deep reverie 
 made her forget her breakfast, and everything about
 
 A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 167 
 
 her ; and as one of the side doors opened she started 
 nervously and came to herself. 
 
 A tall, graceful woman entered the room, wearing 
 a trailing dress of some soft, black material. Emily 
 had never seen her before, but she did not seem to be 
 a stranger to the ways of the house. Her beautiful 
 wavy hair was perfectly white, and her complexion 
 colorless ; but still she did not look in the least old. 
 Her large, melancholy, black eyes rested for a moment 
 on Emily, and then she took a chair opposite her. 
 
 "The ball was a great success last night, was it 
 not, Miss Frankland?" 
 
 "Yes, it was delightful. Was madame there? I 
 do not remember seeing her," Emily answered, won- 
 dering who this lady with such deep, searching eyes 
 could be, and how she had found out her name. 
 
 " No, I was not there. I only arrived last night. I 
 walked a little outside on the terrace, and saw much of 
 the brilliant scene. But I never do more than look on. 
 I resigned my place in society many a long year ago." 
 
 " That seems a great pity, if madame enjoys such 
 entertainments." 
 
 " But I do not enjoy them, child. I saw you, and 
 enjoyed watching and admiring you. I had curiosity 
 to know who you were, so I asked, and by that means 
 learned your name."
 
 168 TANGLED. 
 
 " Perhaps madame would have come to the ball if 
 she had not been alone and among strangers?" 
 
 " I am not alone, dear ; and this place is one of my 
 homes, though a very sad one. I am Madame de 
 Lemanski. Perhaps you have heard of my unfortu- 
 nate son, and will know why I am here ? " 
 
 "Oh, are you his mother? Then you are not <i 
 stranger to me any longer. I do know Count Le- 
 manski, and I have so often wanted to see his mother, 
 and talk to her about his case, which seems so hope- 
 ful. He must have greatly improved' during this 
 summer?" 
 
 " You are very kind to say so, my dear child ; and 
 I thank you for speaking so well of my son. But I 
 know from bitter experience that these slight changes 
 for the better count for nothing in the end. No 
 remedy that has yet been tried has ever done him 
 any permanent good. I have given up hope." 
 
 "But his case cannot be hopeless when he is so 
 reasonable for days together, each day seeming an 
 improvement on the last." 
 
 "But my poor boy has seemed almost recovered 
 countless times before. He always falls back again, 
 as you probably know he has done now. This will go 
 on to the close of his melancholy life." 
 
 "Oh, do not say that, Madame de Lemanski. I
 
 A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 169 
 
 know he is worse now, but it may be such a very 
 long time before his intellect leaves him again." 
 
 " I wonder at myself for talking about my afflicted 
 son to strangers. I usually avoid the subject as much 
 as possible. But you seem to invite my confidence. 
 Miss Frankland, will you tell me your first name, and 
 allow me to call you by it ? I am sure you have a 
 pretty name." 
 
 " Do call me Emily. I shall feel very much pleased 
 and flattered, if you will." 
 
 " Thank you, Emily. I hope you will not think 
 me a foolish old woman who is not able to keep her 
 griefs to herself. But my visits here are usually so 
 lonely and wretched. Talking sometimes with a 
 bright young creature, like you, would cheer and 
 comfort me more than anything else." 
 
 "I am afraid you will be disappointed in me, 
 Madame de Lemanski ; but I shall be delighted if I 
 can be of any use to you. You must know my 
 mother too." 
 
 "Thank you, dear. I should like to know Mrs. 
 Frankland; but you must not ask me to go among 
 your gay friends at the hotel. We should not suit 
 each other." 
 
 " Will you take walks with me sometimes, madame ? 
 That would do you good, I am sure."
 
 170 TANGLED. 
 
 "I should like that. Don't, please, talk to me 
 about what my son has been, when you have seen 
 him. I know so well all that, and it tortures me to 
 think of all the rare qualities his irremediable curse 
 of madness obscures." 
 
 Emily, in spite of the interest this sad-faced woman 
 inspired, felt rather frightened at the responsibility 
 her patronage seemed to impose. 
 
 Madame de Lemanski continued : " I have brought 
 two men with me to take charge of my son Victor. 
 His present attendants are going away, one is to be 
 married, the other is ill. I have to initiate these men 
 this morning into their duties toward my poor boy, 
 and see if they are competent to occupy the position. 
 It is a difficult charge sometimes. Victor has won- 
 derful cunning about eluding restraint when he has 
 one of his violent attacks. But you have finished 
 your breakfast long ago, Emily, and I am keeping 
 you away from the fresh air, that you need after last 
 night's revels. Go out under the trees, and I will 
 find you there when I have spoken to my men." 
 
 Emily went out, and sat in a little arbor, overgrown 
 with wild honeysuckle, to wait for Madame de Le- 
 manski. She chose this concealment because she had 
 no wish to be discovered by any one else. Madame 
 de Lemanski returned in about twenty minutes.
 
 A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 171 
 
 " Emily, ma petite, ou etes-vous, done 9 " she called. 
 
 " Me void, madame ! " she answered, coming out of 
 the arbor, with a spray of honeysuckle twined in her 
 hair. 
 
 "How pretty you look, child! Come, we will sit 
 under this tree, there are beetles and earwigs in 
 that arbor; we find more harmless insects in the 
 grass." 
 
 While the two ladies engage in another conversa- 
 tion we will leave them, and glance at what is hap- 
 pening in another part of the hotel. 
 
 There was a subdued movement and bustle going 
 on in the little flat occupied by the lunatic, Victor de 
 Lemanski. The two keepers who were to leave were 
 putting the rooms in order for their successors. As 
 their patient seemed very quiet and composed on this 
 (to them) eventful morning, they allowed him to go 
 down and sit in the little court-yard. He found en- 
 grossing amusement there in wiping the dust off the 
 ivy-leaves with his fine cambric pocket-handkerchief. 
 As this mode of cleaning would afford steady employ- 
 ment for weeks, the men felt safe in leaving their 
 charge alone for an hour. So, after seeing that both 
 entrances to the court were securely fastened on the 
 outside, they went back to their work in the rooms. 
 When this was finished they proceeded to Madame de
 
 172 TANGLED. 
 
 Lemanski's room, where they were closeted with her 
 and the two new servants for half an hour, giving 
 and receiving directions. 
 
 So the quiet little court was deserted, except by its 
 one industrious tenant. He went on polishing the 
 leaves till his quick ear caught the faint click of 
 a latch behind him. He turned round and listened, 
 and presently the side door was pushed softly open, 
 and a little blue-eyed girl, dressed in white, peered 
 cautiously in, and then started back, frightened at 
 seeing the object of her visit down in the court. But 
 he was too quick for her, and before she could close 
 the door he seized her hand and drew her inside. 
 His manner seemed gentle and kind, so Vera felt no 
 more than a momentary alarm. 
 
 "Where are your wings?" he asked, putting his 
 hand on her shoulder, and speaking in French. 
 
 " I haven't any," answered Vera, instinctively try- 
 ing to get a view of her own back. 
 
 " Can you walk on two legs if I lead you by one 
 paw ? No one shall tread on your tail." 
 
 " I can walk on my legs ; I am not a baby." 
 
 "Come, then. What long fur you have!" he went 
 on, passing his thin fingers through her hair. " You 
 must be an Angora kitten. Go on, we will take a 
 walk," he said, leading her out of the door and
 
 A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 173 
 
 through the little dark passage. As it was the dinner 
 hour of the men and stable-boys, when Vera and 
 her crazy companion emerged into the stable-yard 
 there was no one there to notice or molest them, so 
 they passed undisturbed under the stone archway, 
 and from thence into an open field, thickly studded 
 with trees. Vera was content to wander as far as he 
 chose, so long as he kept her amused with a string of 
 nonsensical stories told in a quiet voice. She talked 
 to him without restraint, feeling as safe with him as 
 she would have felt with any other of the numerous 
 gentlemen of her acquaintance, and certainly there 
 was nothing then in the conduct of the poor lunatic 
 that could occasion alarm. 
 
 In talking to Madame de Lemanski under the trees, 
 Emily lost a great deal of the shy fear of her that she 
 had felt while they were in the dining-room, and was 
 chatting gaily about all the different people she had 
 met in the last few weeks, when she stopped suddenly 
 at seeing an expression of alarm pass over Madame 
 de Lemanski's face. A servant was coming toward 
 them looking much troubled, and both ladies felt 
 instinctively that he was the bearer of bad news, 
 although neither expressed this to the other. 
 
 "Ah, mon Dieu, what has happened!" exclaimed
 
 174 TANGLED. 
 
 Madame de Lemanski, before the man had opened 
 his lips. 
 
 He bowed respectfully, and said something in a low 
 tone to Madame de Lemanski. 
 
 "Good God! Victor has escaped and cannot be 
 found!" she cried, flying toward the house with a 
 speed that Emily found hard to follow. Then followed 
 an excited investigation of what had happened. After 
 the dismissal of the old guardians, and before the new 
 ones had been installed, the lunatic, by some mis- 
 management, had been left too long alone. The small 
 door of the court had been opened from the outside 
 in some mysterious way, but minute questioning gave 
 no clue as to how it had been done, and no further 
 trace could be discovered than that he had escaped by 
 this door. A band of men was sent immediately out 
 in pursuit, and there was much running to and fro 
 and gossiping among the servants as to what fate 
 might have befallen the poor runaway. Emily was in 
 Madame de Lemanski's room, doing her best to soothe 
 her heart-rending anxiety. 
 
 "Madame, why is it so very dreadful that your 
 son has broken loose for a little while? I should 
 not think it would be alarming, he wanders about 
 by himself so much when he is well." 
 
 "But I have bitter reason to dread his wander-
 
 A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 175 
 
 ing off alone when his brain is all on fire, as it is 
 now. He has twice tried to take his own life at 
 such times. Once he was brought back to me al- 
 most drowned, and the other time, oh, it is too 
 horrible to tell about! When will this misery end? 
 Go down, Emily dear, and find out if anything 
 has been seen or heard of my poor unfortunate 
 boy. Do not let this oppress your sympathetic lit- 
 tle soul, remember it is only my trouble." 
 
 Emily went downstairs with a heavy heart, for 
 she had very little hope of bringing back good 
 news. She walked slowly along one of the avenues, 
 and there encountered the two men who had been 
 engaged to take charge of Count Lemanski. She 
 recognized them, from having seen them a few 
 minutes before in Madame de Lemanski's room, 
 where they had been for further instructions. 
 
 "Are you trying to find the poor young gentle- 
 man?" she asked of one of them. 
 
 " We should be very glad to join in the search," 
 he answered ; " but mademoiselle will have the kind- 
 ness to consider that we have not yet seen Monsieur 
 le Comte, whom we are to attend ; and even if we 
 knew in what part of the grounds to search, we 
 might not recognize monsieur, if we were so for- 
 tunate as to see him."
 
 176 TANGLED. 
 
 "I think you would from the description you 
 had from Madame de Lemanski. The best advice 
 I can give you is to continue down this avenue. 
 You have more chance of rinding Monsieur le Comte 
 further away from the hotel." 
 
 " Mademoiselle is very amiable, we will obey her." 
 
 As the men went on as she had directed, Emily 
 turned to go back to Madame de Lemauski, but as she 
 saw Mr. Haskett coming down the hotel steps she 
 changed her mind, and slipped out of sight behind 
 the trees. She could not see him now. She had 
 not thought of him since breakfast, and she did 
 not want him to discover that her mind was full 
 of Count Lemanski, to the exclusion of himself 
 and his question. He must see this if he spoke to 
 her, so she resolved to avoid him till she felt calmer. 
 She had not told him what time to-day she would 
 give him his answer, and if she spoke to him this 
 evening it would be all that was necessary. She saw, 
 to her great satisfaction, that he did not seem inclined 
 to loiter about the place, but walked briskly toward 
 the main road, down which he soon disappeared. 
 
 Emily disliked to go back to Madame de Le- 
 manski with no news of any kind, so, after hesi- 
 tating a moment, she again walked down the avenue, 
 following in the footsteps of the two guardians.
 
 A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 177 
 
 While these events were transpiring at the Hotel 
 des Salines, Lawrence Conway was on his way back 
 from Saxon. When he went to the station at that 
 place to buy his railway ticket to Bex, he found 
 he had only money enough to take him as far as 
 St. Maurice, and from there he must walk home. 
 This did not disconcert him in the least, as it was 
 only an hour's walk, over a pleasant, winding road, 
 smooth and white as a floor, from St. Maurice to 
 Bex. He had his luggage sent on by train, all the 
 way; he would have money to get it when it ar- 
 rived, and going by rail himself as far as his ticket 
 permitted, he was soon on the quiet, picturesque road 
 that led to his temporary home. As he walked 
 along he found himself wondering what the people 
 at the hotel were doing. How had Miss Frankland 
 looked at the ball, and had Haskett been dancing 
 attendance on her, as usual? He thought he had 
 grown indifferent about her of late, but now, as he 
 was drawing near where he would soon see her, he 
 felt that all of his old feelings toward her were 
 waking up again. Would she be glad to see him? 
 What would she say ? Would she look as lovely as 
 ever, with flowers in her hair? Perhaps the capri- 
 cious little soul had at last grown tired of Haskett 
 and was ready to cast him off, and welcome him
 
 178 TANGLED. 
 
 (Lawrence) back with one of the old sweet smiles 
 she used to give him before Haskett made himself 
 so obtrusive. 
 
 Lawrence feared he was not going to be any 
 stronger to resist the charms of this syren than he 
 had been before ; but fate willed that he returned, 
 perhaps fate had some favor in store for him, and 
 he might some day thank the kind friend who had 
 picked his pocket, and driven him back to Bex. 
 
 After a walk of three quarters of an hour Law- 
 rence left the main road, and turned into a side 
 path, which presently led to a huge, wide-spread- 
 ing chestnut tree, marking the beginning of the 
 grounds that belonged to the Hotel des Salines. 
 There was a soft, mossy slope underneath, that 
 formed a most inviting seat. If Lawrence had 
 known that this was one of Emily's favorite haunts, 
 he would not have sat there in the matter-of-fact 
 way that he did, wiping the dust off his boots. 
 He was not at his journey's end yet, but the rest 
 of his way lay through the fields, and down a shady 
 walk, where he would find no dust. 
 
 In the same field where the chestnut tree grew 
 was a large, oddly shaped rock, with a vigorous 
 little tree growing in a cleft which nearly split the 
 rock in two. It was cool on sunny days, and pro-
 
 A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 179 
 
 tected on windy days, and the view from it was 
 very fine, so the little seat in front of the rock was 
 often occupied. A pale, thin young man, with 
 wild, black eyes and tangled hair, might have been 
 seen sitting there this morning talking to a little 
 girl, who watched him with astonishment in her 
 big, blue eyes, as he put little bunches of field 
 flowers in all the button-holes of his coat. As they 
 were sitting there a wretched, lean dog came swiftly 
 toward them, snuffing hungrily along the ground. 
 As soon as Count Lemanski caught sight of him 
 he gave a shriek, and, seizing Vera round the waist, 
 rushed like the wind toward the chestnut tree, 
 carrying his companion under his arm as a gentle- 
 man carries his umbrella. 
 
 "I will save my little white kitten from that 
 terrible dog!" he cried anxiously. 
 
 Vera, frightened almost out of her senses, uttered 
 shriek after shriek, the dog slunk timidly out of 
 sight, and Lawrence, much startled by the contin- 
 ued screaming, sprang to his feet, and saw flying 
 toward him a very disheveled looking young man. 
 One arm was clasped tightly around a heap of short 
 white petticoats, from the midst of which appeared 
 a small pair of legs, kicking wildly. 
 
 As she was held upside down, Lawrence could
 
 180 TANGLED. 
 
 not see the little tear-stained face, half hidden by 
 long hair, but he recognized the little white shoes 
 in an instant, and angrily clutching the strange 
 young man by the arm, released Vera from her in- 
 verted position, and laid her on the bank. Law- 
 rence's touch reassured her directly, and her loud 
 crying soon relapsed into an occasional sob. 
 
 "What do you mean by frightening that little 
 girl?" he said, eyeing the Count fiercely. 
 
 " Plait-il 9 " he answered. What little girl ? " 
 
 "Will you tell me what you mean? Are you 
 crazy?" Lawrence cried, laying a heavy hand on 
 the maniac's shoulder. 
 
 " He is crazy, Mr. Con way. I did want to tell you 
 about him, but Mr. Haskett said me not. He live in 
 a little high room at the hotel; he ought to be take 
 back." 
 
 While Vera was speaking, the Count had quietly 
 picked up a little twig that was lying on the ground, 
 and when Lawrence next opened his mouth to speak, 
 the Count forced the twig suddenly between his 
 teeth. 
 
 "A horse must be kept in with bit and bridle," 
 he said, bursting into a childish laugh, as Lawrence 
 angrily tore away the bit of wood. 
 
 " His wits are clean gone. What shall I do with
 
 A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 181 
 
 him!" Lawrence exclaimed. "Vera, can you walk 
 back ? It will use all my strength to get this young 
 man home," he said in a whisper to the child. 
 
 " I rather walk than be carried under a arm." 
 
 " You must be brave, and not get tired," Lawrence 
 answered, grasping the Count's arm firmly, and pre- 
 paring to lead him back to the hotel. As he turned, 
 the lunatic made another swoop at Vera, but she 
 escaped him by throwing herself flat on the grass 
 before he could catch her. 
 
 " No, you must not touch that child again," Law- 
 rence said angrily, trying to drag his captive along 
 faster. 
 
 The Count walked along quietly for a short dis- 
 tance, muttering under his breath, "Voleur! vipere! 
 sc&6rat! why did you cross my path?" and then, 
 without any kind of warning, wrenched himself away 
 from Lawrence and sped across the field again. 
 Lawrence pursued him hotly, but as he ran he 
 stumbled over a sharp stone, fell and cut his lip. 
 After a little exercise of profanity, he scrambled to 
 his feet again. But he then saw it was useless to 
 continue the chase ; the mad creature ran like a deer, 
 and was almost out of sight already. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Con way, your lip is blooding ! you will 
 soon be a dead. Your hairs is all standing upstairs.
 
 182 TANGLED. 
 
 The fault is all to me," wailed Vera, dissolving into 
 tears a second time, and sitting down forlornly in the 
 
 " Keep your courage up, child ; there is nothing to 
 cry about now. We shall be home soon. I must 
 look rather like a madman myself," he said, staunch- 
 ing the blood oozing from his lip which had already 
 marred the whiteness of his linen and trying to 
 smooth his ruffled hair with his fingers. 
 
 " There are muds on your clothes, too." 
 
 "Yes, and I can't brush the muds off, either. I 
 hope we shall not meet any one on our way home, 
 but that would be too much good luck. Come, Vera, 
 I will carry you the rest of the way; you must be 
 very tired." 
 
 "You will not carry me as did the other gentle- 
 man wrong side out ? " 
 
 "No, I am not such a barbarian," Lawrence an- 
 swered, as he picked up the little girl, and started 
 toward the shady walk that led to the hotel.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 IN WHICH MR. CONWAY LOSES HIS PATIENCE, 
 TOGETHER WITH HIS LIBERTY. 
 
 ~TT~ERA'S fright and fatigue were telling on her 
 V now, and she fell asleep on Lawrence's shoul- 
 der, as he hurried along toward the hotel. He quick- 
 ened his pace as he entered the avenue, and almost 
 ran over two men who were coming the opposite way. 
 He noticed that they looked at him very keenly, but 
 that was only to be expected, considering his dis- 
 ordered dress. He would have wondered if he had 
 seen them stop and look after him, seeming to hesi- 
 tate whether to follow him or not. Another turn in 
 the avenue, and he came full on Miss Frankland. 
 He knew the plight he was in, and she was the per- 
 son, above all others, whom he least wished to en- 
 counter. But there was no escape; she had seen 
 him, and he could not dart off through the trees, as 
 he had at first thought of doing, he must meet her, 
 and make some laughing explanation of his appear- 
 ance, and afterward he could go into particulars.
 
 184 TANGLED. 
 
 But as soon as Miss Frankland recognized him, 
 and saw his bleeding face and disordered clothes and 
 hair, she started back with a sharp scream. 
 
 " Guards, here is your prisoner ; come back ! " she 
 shrieked to the two men, who came flying at her call. 
 "Seize him! he is doing his best to escape again! 
 How wild he looks!" 
 
 " What does all this mean ! " Lawrence exclaimed, 
 putting down the sleepy little girl, and shaking off 
 the hand one of the men had laid on his arm. 
 
 " Hold him, both of you," Emily continued angrily. 
 " You seem to be afraid of him !" 
 
 "What has everybody the matter with him?" 
 asked sleepy Vera, looking at the excited group in 
 bewilderment. 
 
 "Nothing is the matter, Vera. Come with me; 
 we will go back together, and leave these people to 
 follow," Emily said, taking the little girl's hand in 
 hers. "Did the young man hurt you?" 
 
 " He carry me upside backward. I was very much 
 dfrangde, but not hurted." 
 
 Emily continued to the two men: "Do not use 
 any more violence than is necessary with the gentle- 
 man, but you must bring him back to the hotel, no 
 matter how much resistance he makes. You will be 
 discharged directly if you let him escape again. I
 
 MB. C01TWAY LOSES HIS PATIENCE. 185 
 
 will go and tell madame that he has been found. 
 Come, Vera." 
 
 " They will not do hurt to my friend, Miss Emily ? 
 He has been good." 
 
 "No, child, of course they will not hurt him," 
 Emily answered, hurrying away with the little girl. 
 
 " Come, now, monsieur," said the elder of the two 
 men, in very good English, trying to push Lawrence 
 along by the shoulder, " it is better not to make any 
 resistance." 
 
 " Will you two fellows stop this foolery, and go off 
 about your business ! " cried Lawrence, furious at the 
 detention. 
 
 " Speak to him in French," said the younger man ; 
 perhaps he don't speak English as much as they said 
 he did." 
 
 The first man tried addressing him in the language 
 
 " You needn't try to explain yourself in French, 
 I don't understand it. In plain English, will you 
 instantly release my arm, and let me go ? " 
 
 " Monsieur cannot escape. I am obliged to answer, 
 No." 
 
 "Then take the consequences!" exclaimed Law- 
 rence, giving him a blow in the chest that stretched 
 him on the ground.
 
 186 TANGLED. 
 
 This was the signal for violence on the part of the 
 two men. The elder one, who had been knocked 
 down, sprang to his feet instantly, unhurt, and the 
 two together seized Lawrence, forced him down on 
 his knees, and by a great effort succeeded in tying his 
 hands behind him with a heavy silk handkerchief. 
 Lawrence struggled manfully, but the odds were 
 strongly against him. The two men could have mas- 
 tered him, even when he had all his strength, but this 
 morning he was tired with his previous exertions. 
 At last he gave up, and acknowledged himself beaten, 
 and could only walk quietly back to the hotel, in the 
 hope of getting satisfaction there. 
 
 None of the three men were hurt, but their clothes, 
 covered with the soft clay in the path, and Lawrence's 
 bleeding lip, bore unmistakable evidences of a strug- 
 gle. 
 
 "What is the matter? Who is hurt?" asked a 
 dozen voices, as the trio went in at a side-door of the 
 hotel. The men were anxious to escape observation, 
 and bring their prisoner home as quietly as possible, 
 as they had been instructed to do, and they were 
 impatient at the hubbub which ensued among the 
 servants, for it was only some of the underlings of the 
 establishment that they encountered in that part of 
 the house.
 
 ME. CONWAY LOSES HIS PATIENCE. 187 
 
 " Be quiet, will you ! and don't be foolish enough 
 to alarm madame and the whole house. Show us a 
 room with a good lock, where we can deposit mon- 
 sieur in safety. Be quick, don't stand staring like a 
 set of owls." 
 
 There was much subdued questioning and wonder- 
 ing among those of the servants who recognized Law- 
 rence; but alas! all their surmises were made in 
 French, and Lawrence could not relieve his mind 
 here. The door of a small sitting-room was presently 
 opened, and Lawrence was escorted in, too tired now 
 to make any more resistance. 
 
 " If monsieur will content himself to wait quietly 
 here, madame his mother will soon visit him." 
 
 "Will she? I shall be delighted to see her. In 
 the meantime you will please request Mr. Haskett, an 
 English gentleman, who is here, to come to me. I 
 have something to say to him. Do you hear ? " 
 
 " I will endeavor to please monsieur," answered the 
 elder of the keepers, bowing himself out and locking 
 the door behind him. 
 
 When Lawrence heard the key turn in the lock he 
 first began to realize his position. During the excite- 
 ment of the past half hour he had been so intent on 
 defending Vera and himself that he had no time to 
 think what was the cause of all the disturbance.
 
 188 TANGLED. 
 
 Now he was a prisoner ; he had been dragged in the 
 mud, insulted, overpowered and bound by two ruf- 
 fians, and exposed like a thief to the impertinent cu- 
 riosity of the servants. And who had been the cause 
 of his present humiliation? No one else than the 
 girl he had been fool enough to admire, and in whose 
 insanity he had tried not to believe. If it had not 
 been for her those men in the avenue would never 
 have given him a moment's thought, and it was only 
 by her threats and commands that they had been 
 frightened into making the attack. "Who could 
 they have been looking for, that she called their 
 prisoner ? It could not have been the poor crazy fel- 
 low I met in the field ? The men seemed to take me 
 for some criminal. They are evidently new to the 
 place, and thought that girl was a responsible person. 
 But, crazy or wise, Miss Frankland has gone too far 
 this time. She or her mother shall give me an ex- 
 planation of what has happened, and I will get satis- 
 faction for this scandalous treatment in some way. 
 This makes the second time this bewitched girl has 
 attacked me. When I was helping Vera out of a 
 scrape, the first occasion, by the lake, was rather 
 amusing, but this last escapade has no semblance of a 
 joke." 
 
 At this juncture a servant came in bearing a tray
 
 MR. CONWAY LOSES HIS PATIENCE. 189 
 
 with luncheon. Lawrence tried to question the man 
 as to how long his imprisonment was to last, but 
 could gather nothing from him except that somebody 
 was coming some time. He was carefully locked in 
 again, and after his lunch, which he found very re- 
 freshing, he stretched himself on the sofa, where, his 
 weary members getting the better of his agitated 
 thoughts, he soon fell into a sound sleep. 
 
 Emily, returning to the house with Vera, found the 
 little girl too tired and worn out to give anything but 
 a very confused account of what had happened ; so 
 she left off questioning her, and gave her in charge 
 of Annette as soon as possible. Emily then went 
 to find Madame de Lemanski, to tell her that the 
 wanderer was found. 
 
 " You are a dear, good child, to bring me such wel- 
 come news ! " that lady exclaimed, kissing Emily on 
 both cheeks affectionately. 
 
 " I think, madame, it will be well to wait until he 
 has grown calm before you visit him. I was told 
 that he had stopped his complaints and was not so 
 restless as at first. They are going to take him 
 something to eat, and if you would go in to see him 
 in the course of the afternoon you might find him 
 quite rational. That would be such a consolation to 
 you."
 
 190 TANGLED. 
 
 " I will follow your advice, Emily. I think I will 
 try to sleep for an hour; I am in sore need of it. 
 You are sure my boy is as comfortable as possible ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, madame. You need not have any anxi- 
 ety about that ; he is in a very pleasant little room, 
 and there is a servant stationed within hearing to go 
 to him if he calls. I will leave you now, madame, 
 and you must take a refreshing sleep ; there is noth- 
 ing to be troubled about any more." 
 
 Emily felt much exhausted herself, and as she was 
 about to throw herself on her own bed to rest she 
 caught sight of a letter on her dressing-table. The 
 contents were as follows : 
 
 MY DEAR Miss EMILY, A telegram received this 
 morning requests my presence at Aigle, to see, on 
 business, a friend of my mother's, who is stopping at 
 that place for two days. Much as it costs me to 
 cause the delay of the answer I hoped to hear to-day, 
 I cannot avoid being absent from Bex till to-morrow. 
 
 Hoping you are feeling no over fatigue from the 
 ball, I am Yours most sincerely, 
 
 SIDNEY GORE HASKETT. 
 
 Hotel des Salines, Friday morning. 
 
 This letter was a great relief to Emily, for it gave 
 her plenty of time to calm herself and collect her 
 ideas before the interview with the man who had 
 asked her to be his wife. She was glad of the chance 
 to be able to rest, with no more disturbing thoughts
 
 ME. CONWAY LOSES HIS PATIENCE. 191 
 
 for that day at least. At the suggestion of Mrs. 
 Frankland the two ladies dined alone, and as the fine 
 day had ended with a gloomy, drizzling rain, neither 
 Emily nor her mother appeared downstairs again that 
 evening. Emily thought it more discreet not to visit 
 Madame de Lemanski again till that lady sent for 
 her; so arraying herself in a pretty dressing-gown, 
 of some soft, blue stuff, she made herself as comfort- 
 able as possible on the sofa, to read, think, or fall 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when Lawrence awoke 
 refreshed from his nap ; and with the awakening came 
 a determination to put an end to his irritating bond- 
 age. He went to the window and tried to open it, 
 with the intent either to climb out or call till some 
 one came to his rescue, whom he could make under- 
 stand what was the matter. He had just made the 
 unpleasant discovery that the window was fastened 
 tightly down when he heard the door of his prison 
 unlocked for the second time. 
 
 A tall, white-haired lady, with mournful black 
 eyes, glided swiftly toward him and threw her arms 
 around his neck : 
 
 " My own dear boy, do you know your mother ? " 
 she said, with much emotion, turning his face to the 
 light
 
 192 TANGLED. 
 
 "0 mon Dieu! who are you? You are not my 
 son how came you here ? " she exclaimed, pushing 
 him away from her and starting back. 
 
 " Madame, I shall be most delighted to answer your 
 questions ; you are the first person who has been kind 
 enough to give me a hearing to-day. My name is 
 Lawrence Conway. I have not the honor to be your 
 son, and I came here through the caprice or malice 
 I am unable say which of a young lady, Miss Emily 
 Frankland by name, and I have to thank her for the 
 very disagreeable attack and imprisonment to which 
 I have been subjected to-day." 
 
 "Miss Frankland? Yes, I know. She told me I 
 should find here my son, Victor de Lemanski. There 
 has been some grave mistake. I am utterly unable 
 to account for it." 
 
 "Madame, it is the simplest thing in the world 
 to account for what has happened. Since her arrival 
 here Miss Frankland has persistently called me Count 
 Lemanski, which I now learn to be the name of your 
 son. At first, I tried to persuade her that she was 
 mistaken, but I soon discovered that it was not a 
 mistake, but a mania, on her part, to cherish strange 
 delusions about people, and that she was unfor- 
 tunately responsible for very little that she said or 
 did. I have long suspected that such a gentleman as
 
 MB. CONWAY LOSES HIS PATIENCE. 193 
 
 Count Lemanski existed, and that Miss Frankland, 
 either because of her distorted imagination, or to 
 please a passing whim, bestowed his name on me. 
 When inquiries were made about your son (I infer 
 that there must have been some alarm or disturb- 
 ance early this morning) Miss Frankland settled 
 on me as the person desired. I was taken into 
 custody, and here I have been ever since. Most of 
 the mystery is now clear to me. I am very sorry 
 that you have been disappointed, madame. If you 
 had been here longer, you would have learned not 
 to trust to anything Miss Frankland said." 
 
 " What you say astonishes me more and more, 
 Mr. Conway. I have been struck with admiration 
 of Miss Frankland's character during the short 
 time I have known her, and have not noticed the 
 slightest tinge of any of the peculiarities you have 
 mentioned. I cannot help thinking your judgment 
 harsh and severe in the extreme. It cannot be 
 more than a grave mistake that has caused your 
 arrest to-day. I will do my best to discover the 
 error, and that will be the best way to express my 
 profound regret for the indignity you have been 
 made to suffer. A bare apology seems inadequate to 
 atone for the discomfort you have undergone." 
 
 " Madame, I beg of you to say nothing more about
 
 194 TANGLED. 
 
 apology. You are perfectly innocent of all blame, and 
 in at last liberating me you are doing me the greatest 
 favor possible. Let us leave this room, my associa- 
 tions with it are very unpleasant." 
 
 "You will excuse me, Mr. Conway, if I tell you 
 nothing about my poor son now ; it is a heart-rending 
 subject. Some other time I will tell you his history, 
 Tor an explanation is due to you, beyond all doubt. 
 Oh my God, I had forgotten my unfortunate boy; 
 he is still wandering alone and unprotected ! Come, 
 Mr. Conway, your sufferings are over; mine, alas! 
 are only increased." 
 
 Lawrence felt much sympathy for the unknown 
 sorrow of this interesting woman, but as long as she 
 withheld her confidence he could do nothing to help 
 her. With a renewed apology for his unpleasant 
 experience that day, Madame de Lemanski left him, 
 
 and Lawrence, now at liberty, took refuge in his 
 
 
 own room. 
 
 Madame de Lemanski's curiosity and astonishment 
 at the discovery just made was quite swallowed up in 
 the renewed anxiety she felt in the fate of her son. 
 She hurriedly summoned the band of men who had 
 been recalled from the search, and ordered them out 
 again to follow the fugitive more carefully than 
 before. She could not believe the hard things Mr.
 
 MR. CONWAY LOSES HIS PATIENCE. 195 
 
 Conway had said about Emily ; she was convinced of 
 a great error somewhere,, which she would try to right 
 as soon as she felt calmer ; now her brain seemed on 
 fire, and she could think of nothing but the possible 
 sufferings of her unhappy son. Toward evening she 
 wrote a few lines to Emily, telling her briefly that 
 the gentleman who had been arrested was not her 
 son, and that her anxiety for Victor was almost in- 
 supportable. She would explain everything when 
 Emily came to see her again. This note was intrusted 
 to a boy resplendent in buttons, who deposited it on 
 Miss Frankland's plate at the dinner-table. He had 
 not been instructed to do this, and the letter was not 
 sufficiently addressed to be left to find its own way. 
 As Miss Frankland did not come to dinner, the little 
 note was overlooked and finally picked up off the 
 floor and taken to the bureau. The address, " Miss 
 Emily," was too vague to admit of its being delivered 
 to anyor.e, so it staid in the office till it lost its power 
 of doing f Dod
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MR. CONWAY IS APPEASED. 
 
 MILY was out early the next morning; she had 
 I U so much to think of that sleep was impossi- 
 ble, and the morning was too beautiful to be wasted 
 indoors. 
 
 She rambled off down the avenue, the scene of 
 yesterday's adventures, wondering how Madame de 
 Lemanski had found her son, and a little puzzled that 
 she had not been sent for again. Mr. Haskett was 
 coming home to-day; she wished she knew when, 
 and where she could meet him. She rather hoped 
 he would arrive by one of the late trains. It was a 
 pity that he was so matter-of-fact and cold-blooded ; 
 but then he was English that accounted for it. He 
 would be much more agreeable if he were animated 
 like Darwin, for instance, when he was well. 
 
 Poor Darwin! she was afraid she would not see 
 him any more at his best. He must have been very 
 violent to make all this commotion. It would take 
 him a long time to recover, and she would probably 
 have left the Salines before he was better again. 
 
 196
 
 ME. CONWAY IS APPEASED. 197 
 
 Madame de Lemanski was charming. How very 
 deserving of pity she was! and what ornaments to 
 society the mother and son might be under differ- 
 ent circumstances. 
 
 She wandered on, and at last reached the chestnut 
 tree, and sat down on the little bank to continue the 
 train of her thoughts. She went on dreaming till 
 startled by a peculiar grunting screech from the 
 branches of the tree. She looked up quickly, but, 
 seeing nothing, concluded it was a stray magpie, or, 
 perhaps, crows fighting, and thought no more about 
 it. A moment after, a chestnut, in its prickly bur, 
 fell, striking her on the shoulder. Her dress was of 
 thin muslin, and the sensation was very unpleasant. 
 Then another fell, and another, and before Emily 
 could spring to her feet she found herself a target to 
 a volley of chestnut burs, aimed with a directness 
 which no wind could ever accomplish ; besides, it was 
 a very calm day, and there was scarcely any breeze 
 stirring. 
 
 Emily looked up again, thoroughly alarmed, and 
 saw a pair of long legs dangling from the tree, appar- 
 ently in search of a resting-point from which to jump 
 There was nothing unusual in these legs, decorously 
 arrayed in black broadcloth, it was only their unex- 
 pected appearance in that elevated place that fright-
 
 198 TANGLED. 
 
 ened Emily. The next moment, a pale, dark-eyed, 
 rather handsome young man, whom Emily had never 
 seen before, slid to the ground and stood before her. 
 
 His dress was that of a gentleman, but his whole 
 appearance was disordered and wild, especially as he 
 wore no hat, and his long black hair was scattered 
 over his face. 
 
 He carried in his hand a stick with a gauze net at 
 one end for entrapping insects, and there were bits of 
 withered flowers hanging in many of his buttonholes. 
 
 He stared at Emily till a pleased smile broke over 
 his vacant face, showing to advantage his beautiful 
 white teeth. He then advanced a little nearer, and 
 timidly putting out his hand tried to stroke Emily's 
 uncovered hair as he asked : 
 
 " Whose little dog are you ? " 
 
 Emily put up her hand to ward him off, and stared 
 at him in amazement. 
 
 " Monsieur is incomprehensible," she said. 
 
 " You are a pretty little white poodle, but cross ; 
 do you bite when you are petted ? " 
 
 "Yes, I am very dangerous." Emily was trem- 
 bling all over with fright, but still could not help 
 being amused at her strange companion. 
 
 " That is because you are hungry. I will find you 
 something to eat."
 
 ME. CON WAY IS APPEASED. 199 
 
 He walked on a little, to Emily's great relief, and 
 as he rushed at and pinned down with his net every 
 flower that stirred in the breeze, Emily did not know 
 whether to stay and watch his amusing antics or to 
 take refuge in flight. 
 
 While he was shrieking and dancing with delight 
 at having imprisoned a nodding spray of foxglove, 
 Emily conquered her curiosity and started for home. 
 The young man was either drunk or mad, and it was 
 dangerous to be alone with him at that distance from 
 the hotel. But when she turned to go, it was as if he 
 had eyes in the back of his head to watch her move- 
 ments. He rushed after her, and though she was far 
 in advance and ran at the top of her speed, her flight 
 was suddenly stopped by her pursuer clapping the 
 butterfly trap over her head like an extinguisher, with 
 which he led her backward to the tree. Emily was 
 now frightened beyond all control. She gave one 
 long, shrill scream for help, but no answer came, and 
 her terror seemed to excite her assailant to more vio- 
 lence than he had already shown. He clutched at 
 the knot of curls hanging down her back, saying : 
 
 " If you will sit quietly under the tree, my little 
 dog, I will find you something nice to eat. If you 
 howl and whine, I will cut off your curls and throw 
 stones at you. It is better to obey."
 
 200 TANGLED. 
 
 Emily remembered that at about this time in the 
 morning two children usually came along the avenue, 
 carrying milk to the hotel. She would be as calm as 
 possible till they or some one else came. Her only 
 deliverance lay in this, for she never could save her- 
 self by running from her swift-footed oppressor. It' 
 Mr. Haskett would only come! she would never 
 call him cold-blooded or slow again. White as a 
 ghost, she sat down on the bank and watched, with 
 a gloomy fascination, her captor, as he peered into 
 the grass and stirred up the dead leaves. 
 
 The morning after his arrest and imprisonment 
 Lawrence felt less resentment, but his curiosity was 
 redoubled. In the coffee-room he met the Countess 
 de Lemanski, who, after they had breakfasted, pro- 
 posed a walk in the grounds, where she could give 
 him a further explanation of the events of the 
 evening before. Lawrence, nothing loath, accepted, 
 and, as they turned into the avenue, he was pre- 
 pared to listen intently to the subject uppermost in 
 the minds of both, Avhen a sound in the distance 
 attracted his attention. 
 
 " I thought I heard a scream ; did you notice any- 
 thing, madame?" 
 
 " No, I heard nothing." 
 
 "It was only my imagination, I suppose. This
 
 MR. CONWAY IS APPEASED. 201 
 
 avenue, and the field beyond, are now associated in 
 my mind with shrieks and struggles." 
 
 " I wish we could all forget that unfortunate affair 
 of yesterday, Mr. Conway. It preys on my mind 
 more than I can express. I wonder that child Emily 
 has not been to talk to me about it : she must have 
 received the note I sent last night." 
 
 " Forgetfulness is another of Miss Frankland's fail- 
 ings, Madame de Lemanski." 
 
 " You are too hard on this young lady, Mr. Con- 
 way. I am going to try to make you understand each 
 other, for I am sure you cannot have done so before. 
 Her maid told me she had walked down this avenue. 
 I hope we may meet her, and then she will make 
 such a pretty apology for her mistake, that you will 
 have to forgive her. How lovely this morning is ! " 
 
 "It is charming. I am delighted to see you so 
 well and cheerful, Madame de Lemanski." 
 
 " That is because I have had what I call good news 
 to-day." 
 
 " Indeed ! I am happy to hear it." 
 
 "I heard, this morning, from a cottager of the 
 neighborhood, that my poor son, whom I had im- 
 agined wandering without shelter all night, had sup- 
 ped and lodged in his cottage, and had left it early 
 this morning ; so I have every hope that he will be 
 found to-day."
 
 202 TANGLED. 
 
 "This must be a great weight off your mind, 
 madame." 
 
 " Oh, indeed it is ! And I feel that I must do all in 
 my power to amend what you and Miss Emily have 
 suffered because of my son, for I am sure she is 
 very unhappy in knowing what her mistake has 
 occasioned. There is much about the whole affair 
 that I do not understand ; when we meet her, we will 
 have a clear explanation." 
 
 "There certainly is some disturbance going on 
 ahead of us, Madame de Lemanski. Could you walk 
 a little faster, or shall I go on ahead, and see what is 
 the trouble?" 
 
 " I do hear something like a person crying or call- 
 ing for help. Do let us make haste ! I can go very 
 fast when I am excited. Can it be my boy in trouble ? 
 Oh, Mr. Conway, I am so glad you are with me ! " 
 
 " Do not be frightened, madame, it may be noth- 
 ing. The sound comes from the field ahead of us ; I 
 see nothing yet. I am afraid you are exerting your- 
 self too much, madame. You are walking faster than 
 I can." 
 
 After searching carefully among the leaves for a few 
 minutes, Emily's companion discovered a small brown 
 lizard, which he pursued and finally caught in his net. 
 He then took it out of the net, and dangled it before
 
 MB. CONWAY IS APPEASED. 203 
 
 Emily, holding it between his finger and thumb, say- 
 ing, in a coaxing tone, " Puppies like nice fat lizards ; 
 eat it, little dog, I am sure you are hungry." 
 
 Emily shrank back in disgust at the slimy, squirm- 
 ing creature held so close before her eyes. 
 
 " Bark, first, and then you shall have it. Bark ! I 
 tell you. Do you hear!" he cried, seizing her rough- 
 ly by the arm, and holding the lizard so close that it 
 almost touched her cheek. She screamed again and 
 again, and tried to escape, but it seemed hopeless. 
 The now enraged lunatic caught her round the neck, 
 and with the other hand held the writhing reptile to 
 her lips, crying, " Eat it, then, without barking ! Be 
 quick, or it will get away, and my trouble will go for 
 nothing." 
 
 Emily, her whole face transfigured with horror and 
 loathing, slipped on to her knees, and tried to pro- 
 pitiate her persecutor with her tearful entreaties. 
 Suddenly he loosened his grasp, the lizard slid from 
 his hands, and Emily felt herself free. The lunatic 
 was staring at two persons who were hurrying to- 
 ward them, one was a tall lady with gray hair, the 
 other an excited-looking young gentleman, who called 
 angrily : 
 
 " Hands off, you ruffian ! How dare you frighten 
 that young lady?"
 
 204 TANGLED. 
 
 "Thank heavens! here is help at last," sighed 
 Emily, as she threw herself into the outstretched 
 arms of Madame de Lemanski. But that lady soon 
 put her gently aside, and glided over to the poor 
 lunatic, who was standing motionless, with his head 
 fallen on his breast. 
 
 " My son, Victor, do you not know your own loving 
 mother?" she said in a soft, low voice, taking his 
 face in both her hands, and looking steadily in his 
 eyes. The young man burst into tears, and sank 
 down on the grass. 
 
 " He will be better now," said the white-haired lady, 
 with a smile of subdued happiness. "Mr. Conway, 
 Emily, congratulate me ; I have found my son." 
 
 " Then you had two missing sons, madame ? " asked 
 Emily, in astonishment." 
 
 "No, my dear, Mr. Conway is not my son. You 
 have been mistaken all along." 
 
 " Mr. Conway ? This gentleman is Count Lemanski, 
 and not your son ! I do not understand." 
 
 "I have frequently told Miss Frankland that my 
 name was not Lemanski, but she never chose to be- 
 lieve it," said Lawrence, dryly. 
 
 "Madame, do you tell me that this gentleman's 
 name is Conway, and that he is not your insane 
 son?"
 
 MR. CONWAY IS APPEASED. 205 
 
 " I do, mademoiselle, emphatically. Who can have 
 been your false informant ? " 
 
 " Then it must be true. Mr. Conway, I have been 
 putting myself and you in a most perplexing light 
 for weeks. Will you have the patience to come back 
 to the hotel with me, and listen to a long explana- 
 tion, for I can see how the mistake has been car- 
 ried on now, from beginning to end. It was all my 
 fault." 
 
 At first Lawrence listened with indifference to all 
 that Miss Frankland said, but presently, for the first 
 time in many days, he began to think that she spoke 
 the truth. As she proceeded, a flush of pleasure 
 mounted to his cheek at the thought that the mys- 
 tery of the past few weeks was soon to be so satisfac- 
 torily solved ; and by the time they reached the hotel 
 all was explained. 
 
 While Madame de Lemanski led her now submis- 
 sive son to his own apartments, Emily and Lawrence 
 went to the salon, where Emily began the long story 
 over again from the point of Winnie's departure ; 
 and the two young people, who were now so happily 
 reconciled to each other, had many a quiet laugh 
 over the host of absurd situations Winnie's innocent 
 words had caused. Everything was made clear but 
 the conduct of Mr. Haskett.
 
 206 TANGLED. 
 
 " It seems as if he had been playing traitor," Law- 
 rence mused. 
 
 "He has deceived me hundreds of times " 
 
 Emily stopped short as she remembered that she 
 was speaking of the man whose wife she soon would 
 pledge herself to be. 
 
 " But we must not condemn him unheard," con- 
 tinued Lawrence. "Perhaps he can prove his inno- 
 cence." 
 
 "I cannot see what object he could have had for 
 deceiving me." 
 
 Lawrence was like a different man that evening, as 
 he sat at dinner talking to his fair neighbor without 
 restraint, and he felt that he should never cease to 
 congratulate himself that he had lost his money at 
 Saxon. This loss had brightened the whole world to 
 him, and he felt overflowing with a new, keen happi- 
 ness. Mr. Haskett returned that same evening, but 
 too late to make his arrival known to any of the per- 
 sons in whom he was most interested.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 MR. HASKETT felt his face change color as 
 he strolled into one of the little reception 
 rooms after breakfast the next morning and saw the 
 group assembled there. Mrs. Frankland was sitting 
 on the sofa talking gayly to Lawrence Conway, who 
 was engaged in searching through a pile of music on 
 the table. Emily was at the piano, with one pretty 
 hand resting on the keys. Her face was turned to- 
 ward Lawrence, on whom she was venting occasional 
 playful sarcasms for being so long in finding the 
 music he wanted. 
 
 Mr. Haskett saw instantly, from the expression of 
 their faces, that things were not as they had been. 
 What evil fate had brought that fellow Conway back 
 so soon, just as he felt so sure of his game ? Mr. Has-. 
 kett's first impulse was to turn and keep out of sight 
 till he had arranged a plan of defense, for he felt be- 
 yond a doubt that defense would be necessary ; but it 
 was too late to retreat. 
 
 807
 
 208 TANGLED. 
 
 "Oh, there is Mr. Haskett!" Emily exclaimed, 
 rising and coming forward. 
 
 " I have come for my answer, Emily," he said in a 
 low tone, as he nervously pressed her hand. 
 
 "But you must answer some questions first!" she 
 rejoined gayly. " You are to be our prisoner till you 
 have given us a clear explanation of what has been 
 puzzling us for so long." 
 
 " Good morning, Mrs. Frankland. Do you wonder 
 if I feel overwhelmed with the importance of the task 
 your daughter has imposed on me ? " 
 
 " We all look to you for light in this matter, Mr. 
 Haskett. I hope you will not disappoint us." 
 
 Mr. Haskett wished devoutly that he was a star of 
 lesser magnitude on this occasion. 
 
 "How are you, Conway?" he asked, with an as- 
 sumption of indifference. " I did not expect to see 
 you here again so soon." 
 
 " I am happy to say that circumstances obliged me 
 to return sooner than I intended, thereby enabling 
 me to clear up a misunderstanding that has been al- 
 lowed to exist for weeks. Mr. Haskett, will you 
 please explain why you permitted me to suppose that 
 Miss Frankland was insane, when you knew the con- 
 trary; and why you did not break up that young 
 lady's delusion about me, when you, and you only,
 
 CONCLUSION. 209 
 
 had the power to do away with a mistake that was 
 causing endless perplexities to people whom you were 
 pleased to call your friends ? " 
 
 'So, my dear fellow, you have discovered this 
 little joke at last! I knew it must come out soon. 
 It was making such a capital story quite like the 
 absurd situations one reads about, you know that 
 I hated to break it all up by letting in the light of 
 common-sense. I hope you are not going to take it 
 seriously ? " 
 
 " You knew all the time that we were mistaken in 
 each other Mr. Con way and I?" Emily asked, 
 wonderingly, as she looked from Mr. Haskett to Law- 
 rence. 
 
 " How curious that you should have cared to keep 
 the secret so long," Mrs. Frankland mused. 
 
 Mr. Haskett smiled feebly as he finished speaking, 
 but he saw no reflection of his smile on Lawrence's 
 face. 
 
 "And so you deliberately let two people suffer 
 untold annoyance and anxiety for weeks simply for 
 the sake of carrying on what you chose to call an 
 amusing joke ? Mr. Haskett, you have had a deeper 
 motive. Will you favor me with the truth, where we 
 can talk to each other undisturbed ? This is no 
 place for the words I have still to say to you."
 
 210 TANGLED. 
 
 " If the conversation you purpose to favor me with 
 is to be as insulting as your last words have been, I 
 agree with you that it cannot continue in the pres- 
 ence of ladies. I will see you in your room, an hour 
 from now," answered Mr. Haskett, hotly. 
 
 " Gentlemen, I beg of you not to take this affair so 
 seriously!" cried Mrs. Frankland nervously. 
 
 " Do not excite yourself, Mrs. Franklaud ; there is 
 no cause for uneasiness." 
 
 " I will wait for you in my room at twelve o'clock, 
 Mr. Haskett," Lawrence said, as, with a graceful bow 
 to the two ladies, he stepped through the long win- 
 dow out on to the lawn. Mrs. Frankland followed 
 him, with a vague idea of calming his troubled 
 thoughts, and Emily and Mr. Haskett were left 
 alone. 
 
 During the interval of silence, Vera, tired and 
 flushed with the exertion of trying to teach her little 
 brother to dance to the music of her bottle, before he 
 knew how to walk, came and stretched herself across 
 the window-sill. She leaned her golden head on a 
 velvet footstool on the mosaic floor, and, with her 
 little white feet resting on the grass outside, she fell 
 asleep, with her musical bottle under one arm. She 
 saw neither of the occupants of the room, and was 
 so quiet that they scarcely noticed her.
 
 CONCLUSION. 211 
 
 At length Mr. Haskett crossed the room to where 
 Emily was sitting, and, with his voice trembling with 
 emotion, said, taking her hand in his : 
 
 "Miss Frankland Emily you will not let what 
 you have to tell me be influenced by what this hot- 
 headed fellow has just said ?" 
 
 "But, Mr. Haskett, I cannot help feeling amazed 
 that you could carry on such a deception toward a 
 man you have always called your friend!" 
 
 " Perhaps I was wrong in speaking of him as my 
 friend ; he is nothing more than a chance acquaint- 
 ance. I fail to see why I am bound to make myself 
 responsible for the wrong ideas of other people that 
 he chooses to take into his head. If he was fool 
 enough to doubt your intelligence, was I obliged to 
 labor with him till he changed his mind ? He ought 
 to blame himself, and no one else, for what was 
 caused by his own stupidity. It is the height of im- 
 pertinence for him to make me so conspicuous in the 
 affair." 
 
 "But why did you let me believe he was insane, 
 Mr. Haskett ? I have made myself so ridiculous in 
 his eyes because of that belief." 
 
 " I only knew him as a companion on the mount- 
 ains; how could I answer for his conduct in polite 
 society? If he impressed you as insane, what proof
 
 212 TANGLED. 
 
 had I to the contrary? Ever since I have been here 
 my heart and brain have been filled with your image. 
 I have had neither the power nor inclination to study 
 and understand the character of a man to whom I am 
 perfectly indifferent. Oh, Emily, you cannot be so 
 cruel as to dash my happiness to the ground because 
 of this foolish error! Answer me, my darling, tell 
 me that you will be my wife," he said, fervently press- 
 ing both her hands to his lips. 
 
 " Don't touch me let me think," she answered, 
 pushing him gently away, and falling back on the 
 sofa from which she had risen. 
 
 Her brain was in a tumult. She felt that there was 
 a ring of falseness through all Mr. Haskett had said. 
 He had been very unjust to Mr. Conway, and she 
 resented this keenly for his sake and for her own. 
 But then it was true that Mr. Haskett was not re- 
 sponsible for the opinions Mr. Conway might form of 
 other people, and should she refuse him for carrying 
 his love of joking too far? He would then go away 
 Mr. Conway also and she would be left to feel over 
 again the monotony that had hung over the first days 
 of her stay at the hotel. She would probably repent 
 her decision when too late to retract her word ; and 
 then her mother would be so disappointed, she had 
 quite set her heart on Emily's marrying Mr. Haskett.
 
 CONCLUSION. 213 
 
 No, she could not refuse ; but then could she accept 
 a man who had been acting a lie to her for weeks ? 
 It was a hard question to settle, and all the time he 
 was devouring her with his eyes, as he stood before 
 her waiting for her reply. Why were there no longer 
 good fairies who could come and inspire her with the 
 words she might say and never repent? 
 
 A toddling, staggering baby on the grass outside 
 fell over Vera's legs and woke her up. She sleepily 
 rubbed her eyes and stroked the back of her neck, 
 stiff from the position she had taken on the footstool , 
 then, for diversion, set up her bottle on the floor, and 
 leaned back against the window-frame to listen. 
 
 At the other side of the room Emily heard, mingling 
 in with her reverie, the sound of soft, tinkling music. 
 She did not know or care where it came from, but 
 was only aware that it was pleasant and soothing. It 
 was the same air from "Don Juan" that she remem- 
 bered the band played one exquisite afternoon when 
 she wandered so far away with Mr. Conway. How 
 long ago that seemed, and how she had regretted that 
 day that her companion was insane ! But he was not 
 insane did she realize that ? 
 
 " Emily, have you forgotten me ? or can I take 
 your long silence for consent ? " asked a voice so close 
 that she felt its warm breath on her cheek.
 
 214 TANGLED. 
 
 The soft melody repeated itself, the words chasing 
 each other in wild confusion through Emily's brain : 
 
 " Je voudrais, mais je n'ose, 
 
 J'espere, et puis j'ai peur; 
 C'est le ciel qu'il propose, 
 Mais s'il est un trompeur?" 
 
 As the course of a stream is turned by a pebble, 
 Emily felt the words of assent, trembling on her lips, 
 changed and chased away by this tiny echo of famil- 
 iar music. There was inspiration and warning in 
 every note. She started to her feet, held out her 
 hand, and, looking her lover full in the face, said 
 with a clear, firm voice : 
 
 " Mr. Haskett, I beg your pardon for my hesitation. 
 I should have answered you an hour ago. I cannot 
 be your wife. I hope you will not think me unkind, 
 but to the question you asked me on the night of th', 
 ball, and repeated to-day, I must answer no." 
 
 " But, Miss Frankland, I had hoped for a very dif- 
 ferent answer. I cannot have understood. Yoi. 
 speak hastily. I will give you more time." 
 
 "Time will not alter my decision, Mr. Haskett 
 May I beg of you to accept it as final ? " 
 
 As soon as Emily uttered the one decisive mono 
 syllable " no," she felt a load removed from her heart, 
 and mind that had been almost greater tha/4 4e
 
 CONCLUSION. 215 
 
 could bear. In the careless happiness that pervaded 
 her whole being she felt a proud confidence that she 
 had answered right. 
 
 " Miss Frankland, I cannot realize that you mean 
 this cruel answer to be final. I will go away for a 
 week for a month if you say so, and then per- 
 haps you will think differently?" 
 
 " You would be wiser not to return on my account, 
 Mr. Haskett." 
 
 Mr. Haskett broke into one more eloquent appeal 
 to Emily to retract her word or hold out a surer hope 
 than he already had for the future, but she was inex- 
 orable ; and at last the discarded lover left the room, 
 inwardly cursing the folly of his conduct toward 
 Conway, for he felt it was this that had changed 
 Emily's feelings, and he could not deny that she had 
 justice on her side. 
 
 As Mr. Haskett disappeared through the door, 
 Emily went over to the window, caught up Vera and 
 whirled her around the room in a mad, merry dance, 
 in which the little girl's short, bare legs rarely 
 reached to the floor. Then, after chasing each other 
 around and around the table, the two children, tired 
 out with laughing and romping, sat down again on 
 the window-sill. 
 
 " Why are you so very much happy, Miss Emily ? "
 
 216 TANGLED. 
 
 " Because I said to somebody what I thought,Vera." 
 
 " I say sometimes so, and get scolds from people, 
 but I think not nice things like you." 
 
 " Where did you get your bottle, Vera ? Is that 
 what made the music a little while ago ? " 
 
 " Yes ; is he not beautiful ? " 
 
 Emily pressed her warm, red lips against the un- 
 yielding side of the bottle. 
 
 " Mr. Conway give him to me ; I name him Law- 
 rence for he." 
 
 "That is a great honor for Mr. Conway does he 
 know it?" 
 
 "Yes, he know everything. He is coming see, 
 down there. Mr. Conway! come in and see Miss 
 Emily and me ! " 
 
 Lawrence heard the little girl's call and stopped 
 outside the window to talk. 
 
 "I have waited half an hour longer than the time 
 fixed, in my room, to see Mr. Haskett, but he has not 
 appeared. Do you know what has become of him, 
 Miss Frankland ? " 
 
 " He left this room about half an hour ago. Fur- 
 ther than that I know nothing of him." 
 
 " Isn't your bottle demolished yet, Vera?" 
 
 " I don't know. When I tell Miss Emily my bottle 
 was named you, she did a kiss on it."
 
 CONCLUSION. 217 
 
 "Why Vera!" Emily exclaimed, blushing hotly, 
 " how shockingly you misrepresent ! " 
 
 An amused smile crept over Lawrence's face, and 
 though he said nothing he would have given his ears 
 to know what was the real episode of the bottle. 
 What made Miss Frankland blush so? Vera must 
 tell him what it was later. 
 
 That evening it was rumored that Mr. Haskett 
 had left the hotel. He had not said where he was 
 going, but he paid his bill and took all his luggage 
 with him; so the departure must have been pre- 
 meditated and final. There was no note or word of 
 good-bye left for any one, and the members of the 
 hotel were left to account for his absence in whatever 
 way they saw fit. "Cowardly sneak!" was all Mr. 
 Conway was ever heard to remark on the subject of 
 his departure. 
 
 At the close of a lovely afternoon in September two 
 persons are idly walking along the shore of the lake. 
 Both are silent, but it is not for lack of ideas, each 
 being in a mood to indulge in what the Germans 
 call the " stumme sprache" At last the gentleman 
 
 " The last time I asked you to go over to the island 
 you refused. May I ask you again, Miss Frankland ? "
 
 218 TANGLED. 
 
 "Yes, let us go out on the water it is so beauti- 
 fully clear." They rowed over to the fragrant little 
 island, and there, within hearing of the fitful tones of 
 the harp, Lawrence told Emily the old story which is 
 never worn out. It must have been a long story, for 
 the daylight faded and the stars came twinkling into 
 sight before the plashing of the oars was heard bring- 
 ing them back to shore. 
 
 As they came back to the hotel Vera danced for- 
 ward to meet them : 
 
 " Miss Emily, you look at Mr. Conway like as you 
 thought he was a very good fellow. I am glad " 
 
 " I do think so, Vera." 
 
 " Do you like him so much as I do ?" 
 
 " As much and more than you ever loved anybody, 
 little girl"
 
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 Historical Sketch of the Discovery of America by the Norsemen in the loth cent- 
 ury. By PROP. R. B. ANDERSON, of the University of Wisconsin, with an Appendix 
 on the Historical, Literary and Scientific value of the Scandinavian Languages. 
 
 Price, 12mo, cloth |i oo 
 
 "A valuable addition to American history. The object is fully described in it* 
 title page, and the author's narrative is very remarkable. * * * The book U 
 full of surprising statements, and will be read with sometldng like wonderment." 
 Notes and Qutrits, London.
 
 PUBLISHED BY S. C. GRIGGS & CO., CHICAGO. 
 ViKING TALES OF THE NORTH.-The Sagas of Thotn,vik- 
 
 ing's Son, and Fridthjof the Bold. Translated from the Icelandic by Prof. R. B. 
 ANDERSON, Author of "Norse Mythology," and JON BJARNASON. Also, Stephens's 
 translation of Tegner's ' FRIDTHJOF'S SAGA." Complete in one volume, 12mo, 
 Cloth, $2.00. 
 
 "A charming book it is. Your work is in every-way cleverly done. * * 
 The quaintly, delightful sagas ought to charm many thousands of readers, and your 
 translation is of the best." Willard Fiske, M.A., Ph. D., Prof, of the North 
 European Languages, Cornell University. 
 
 "This work, as a whole, will please and instruct all classes of readers, and espe- 
 cially those who wish to search out the antiquities of Scandinavian literature. But 
 every one will be struck with the majesty and force of that old poetry of the north." 
 The Churchman. New York. 
 
 "The literal translations of Anderson and Bjarnason are full of interest of a rare 
 kind. * * Whoever fails to read them, will lose a rare fund of that peculiar wealth 
 of thought and feeling which is suggested by the earlier, simpler life of mankind." 
 The Christian Union, New York. 
 
 "Prof. Anderson's book is a very valuable and important one. The ' Saga of 
 Thorstein, Viking's Son,' * * teems with magnificently dramatic situations, the 
 impressiveness of which are rather increased by the calm directness and dignity with 
 which they are related. And these features are as characteristic of the English ver- 
 sion as of the Icelandic originals The translator shows an intimate acquaintance 
 with all the intricacies of that cruelly inflected language, and an enthusiastic appre- 
 ciation of its epigrammatic pith and vigor. * * Tegne'r's celebrated poem 'Fridth- 
 jof s Saga,' is sufficiently novel in its theme and abounding in melody and rhythm 
 to yield a large measure of enjoyment." The Nation, New York. 
 
 FRIDTHJOF'S SAGA. A Norse Romance. By ESAIAS TEGNBR 
 Translated from the Swedish by THOS. A. E. HOLCOMB and MARTHA A. LVON 
 HOLCOMB. One volume, 12mo, Cloth, 81.50. 
 
 "Its beauties are innumerable. The grand old Viking spirit glows in every line." 
 Christian Leader ; JV. Y. 
 
 "'FridthjoPs Saga' so beautifully embalmed in English verse, must become a 
 household treasure among lovers of elegant and curious literature." St. Louis 
 Times. 
 
 "No one can ptruse this noble poem without arising therefrom with a loftier idea 
 of human bravery and a better conception of human love." Inter-Ocean, Chicago. 
 
 "Wherever one opens the poem he is sure to light upon passages of exquisite 
 beauty. Longfellow styles it the noblest poetic contribution which Sweden has yet 
 made to the literary history of the world." Church journal, New York. 
 
 " 'Fridthjofs Saga' is an interesting story, told with great skill, tenderness and 
 picturesque language, while the characters are discriminated with a talent worthy 
 of the most observant student of human nature. * * * Sweden in the person of 
 Bishop Tegner, offers the true poet, who, in describing the struggles of souls, has 
 produced an immortal poem. * * The Holcomb translation is so well done that 
 it would be difficult to better it in any single respect." Boston Gasette.
 
 PUBLISHED BY S. C. GRIGGS & CO., CHICAGO. 
 
 THE PILOT AND HIS WIFE.-By JONAS LIB. Translated from 
 the Norse by MRS. OLB BULL. ISmo, Cloth. $1.50. 
 
 "The book abounds in a rare poetic force." The Nation. 
 
 "Lie is a norelist of very marked genius." North America* Revie-w. 
 
 "It opens to English readers new and vivid fields of romance." Hartford Post. 
 
 "It fascinates the attention and moves the feelings with a strange power, and 
 when the book is finished it is easy to realize that we have been under the spell of a 
 master ."-Appleton's Journal. 
 
 "In manner, plot and treatment, it is so totally different from all other writings 
 as to excite the liveliest interest. * * Lie is a writer of marked peculiarities and 
 rare genius. His dramatic powers are intense, but his presentations of the passions 
 and inspirations, the workings of heart, and the struggles of soul, are more vivid and 
 striking still. * * The beauty and poetry of the novel is found in the literary 
 workmanship which gives us the character of 'Elizabeth.' It is essentially an orig- 
 inal character, and a pure and noble conception." Sacramento Daily Union. 
 
 "It is a remarkably attractive book. * * Some of the characters are exqui- 
 sitely drawn', notably those of the pilot and his wife Elizabeth. The latter is a 
 delightful creature. The reader cannot but be struck by the intense power with 
 which the author manages the pathetic incidents of his story, and with the natural- 
 ness that pervades the whole. The artistic workmanship will strike every person of 
 thought and culture, while the vivid descriptions in the more exciting portions will 
 fully absorb the attention of those who read only for amusement. There is a fresh- 
 ness and originality in the book, an out-door flavor and breeziness, that cannot fail 
 to win for it a high degree of favor." Boston Gazette. 
 
 PETERSON'S NORWEGIAN -DANISH GRAMMAR 
 
 AN D READER. With a Vocabulary, designed for American Students of the 
 Norwegian -Danish Language. By REV. C. I. P. PETERSON, Professor of Scandina- 
 vian Literature. 12mo, Cloth. (1.26. 
 
 "I may say that I have mys-lf read through the Norwegian-Danish Grammar 
 of Peterson, and when I afEnu that I find myself able to translate the reading exer- 
 cises with great readiness, it may be inferred how well the book is adapted to for- 
 ward one in a knowledge of this interesting but neglected language." A. Winchell, 
 LL.D. Professor in Vanderbilt University, late Chancellor of the University of 
 Syracuse. 
 
 "I rejoice to see the door opened to American Students to the treasures of Nor- 
 wegian letters, and in so attractive a manner as in Mr. Peterson's work. No more 
 useful direction for philological study opens to English scholars now than the re- 
 search into Anglo-Saxon and Norse Northern tongues. This work will be surely a 
 valuable help in this direction." Prof. Frank Sewell, President of Urbana Uni- 
 versity,
 
 PUBLISHED BY S. C. GRIGGS & CO., CHICAGO. 
 GERMAN WITHOUT GRAMMAR OR DICTIONARY.- 
 
 According to the Pestalozzian Method of teaching by Object Lessons. By DR. Zus- 
 BRUCKB. 12mo, half bound. Price, 50 Cents. 
 
 "It makes the study of German as much a recreation as a task." TV. Y. Weekly 
 Tribune. 
 
 "This book as a whole, cannot be too highly praised, and should sell an hundred 
 thousand a year." The Church Union, New York. 
 
 "The method is so simple that any English teacher with a little instruction in the 
 pronunciation of German, can handle it." Pennsylvania School yournal. 
 
 "I like the arrangement of it very much. It seems to me to be the only correct 
 method of teaching German." Prof. F. B. McClellan, Superintendent of Schools, 
 Albion, Mich. 
 
 "By far the best method to enable pupils to acquire familiarity with a language, 
 and readiness in speaking it. The little volume is an excellent hand book for teach, 
 ers." Boston Common-wealth. 
 
 "A useful little manual. * * It is admirably adapted to its purpose. 
 The book has been in successful use in Chicago Public Schools, where it has been 
 found to fulfill its object in the most satisfactory manner." Boston Gazette. 
 
 "Permit me to acknowledge the receipt of the excellent little book you sent me. 
 It strikes me that the method is admirably adapted to a pleasant and rapid acquaint- 
 ance with elementary German and I cannot but think it will prove successful The 
 course is very attractive." /V<y~. A. C. Kendrick* D, D., LL. D . University of 
 Rochester. 
 
 "This book is so simple and straightforward that a child would find no difficulty 
 in handling it from the beginning. Children of all ages would be charmed with the 
 novelty of the method, and acquire more rapidly under it and grow less weary with 
 it, than probably with any other now in vogue in schools and classes." The Pub- 
 Ushers' Weekly, N. Y. 
 
 "I cannot express in words my appreciation of your little book. The method you 
 adopt is the only one by which Americans can learn to speak the German language, 
 and the admirable arrangement of your book makes it peculiarly adapted to the use 
 of American schools. I am using the method with my own classes. It need only be 
 known, I think, in order that it may be appreciated by all earnest and energetic 
 teachers who would give their pupils the most thorough knowledge of German in the 
 least possible time." W. F. Kerdolff, Prof, of Languages, Irving Military Aca- 
 demy, Lake View, III. 
 
 " This is certainly a great improvement on most methods. From the first the 
 pupil speaks German, but is carried along easily until he has acquired a good deal of 
 the language. For young pupils, we suspect that this is the only method; and it is 
 possible that adults may be best helped by it. It was a fault of old books used by us 
 long ago, that they stranded us in the first month upon the only rocks in that whole 
 sea everything hard was put at the beginning. Here, nothing is hard, and the 
 German is every day talk. The text is Roman, a great point in its favor." Tkt 
 Methodist. New York.