"Just as I was ready to go, the door opened, and a man in a coachman's blouse entered. He asked my name, and gave me a note. She wrote from Vevey, whence the man had just come in his wagon. She had suddenly decided that morning to carry out her plan, and visit the principal of the _pension_ where she had lived as a girl. She begged me to excuse her for not informing me before. She would tell me about it when she saw me. She meant to remain there for the night; the room which she had formerly occupied was empty, and she wished to sleep once more in the bed where she had dreamed her girlish dreams, and to show the child all the places which were dear to her in her youth. She would return next day. "While I was reading, the messenger related in his _patois_ a rambling story about a Fräulein from the _pension_ whom he was obliged to take to Vevey, and about the strange lady who had given him the note just as he was harnessing; and now he must go. I listened with little attention, gave the man his fee, and was once more alone. "I could not believe it had happened so accidentally. I recognized a little stratagem of my wife's, a ruse to make me feel what it meant when she failed me. 'Out of sight, in mind' was indeed her maxim. She proved it only too cruelly. "I did not wish to prolong my penance unnecessarily. It was two hours before another steamer left. The railroad was then only a subject for conversation. Little time would be gained by taking a carriage, and I knew that the slow movement would madden me.