That evening, when Rex and the Jaeger were fussing over the chamois’ beard and dainty horns inside the Hütte, Ruth and her father stood without, before the closed door. The skies were almost black, and full of stars. Through the wide fragrant stillness came up now and then a Jodel from some Bursch going to visit his Sennerin. A stamp, and a comfortable sigh, came at times from Nani’s cows in their stall below. Ruth put both arms around her father’s neck and laid her head down on his shoulder. “Tired, Daisy?” “Yes, dear.” CHAPTER XV. Supper was over, evening had fallen; but there would be no music tonight under the beech tree; the sky was obscured by clouds and a wet wind was blowing. Mrs Dene and Ruth were crossing the hall; Gethryn came in at the front door and they met. “Well?” said Rex, forcing a smile. “Well,” said Ruth. “Mademoiselle Descartes is better. Madame will bring her down stairs by and by. It appears that wretched peasant who drove them has been carrying them about for hours from one inn to another, stopping to drink at all of them. No wonder they were tired out with the worry and his insolence!” “It appears Miss Descartes has had attacks of fainting like this more than once before. The doctor in Paris thinks there is some weakness of the heart, but forbids her being told,” said Mrs Dene. Ruth interposed quickly, not looking at Gethryn: “Papa and Monsieur Bordier, where are they?” “I left them visiting Federl and Sepp in their quarters.” “Well, you will find us in that dreadful little room yonder. It’s the only alternative to sitting in the Bauernstube with all the woodchoppers and their bad tobacco, since out of doors fails us. We must go now and make it as pleasant as we can.” Ruth made a motion to go, but Mrs Dene lingered. Her kind eyes, her fair little faded face, were troubled. “Madame Bordier says the young lady tells her she has met you before, Rex.” “Yes, in Paris”; for his life he could not have kept down the crimson flush that darkened his cheeks and made his temples throb. Mrs Dene’s manner grew a little colder. “She seems very nice. You knew her people, of course.” “No, I never met any of her people,” answered Rex, feeling like a kicked coward. Ruth interposed once more. “People!” said Ruth, impatiently. “Of course Rex only knows nice people. Come, mother!” Putting her arm around the old lady, she moved across the hall with decision. As they passed into the cheerless little room, Rex held open the door. Ruth, entering after her mother, looked in his face. It had grown thinner; shadows were deep in the temples; from the dark circles under the eyes to the chin ran a line of pain. She held out her hand to him. He bent and kissed it.