“Madame does not wish to be found nor disturbed? _I_ will see to that,” declared Frau Hurter, looking forbiddingly, grim, “and let people know that she is not as they suppose, a widow. Yet Madame is too young to lead the life of a nun--all work, no companions, no pleasure.” “I only ask to be left alone. I am much happier here than in England. My husband was not kind to me.” Frau Hurter’s thoughts turned to her own mate; the dark-eyed Italian mason, whom the cruel cold had put to death, and alas! she realised, that she too had been cold, to that warm-hearted child of the sun. Well, she was making up for her neglect by a double devotion to their boy. And now at last behold an English visitor for Mrs. Glyn! After many delays, broken promises, and lengthy telegrams, Mrs. Hesketh came out to Switzerland and engaged rooms at the Hôtel de Paradis--just half a mile below Les Plans. She was welcomed at Lucerne Station by Letty and her daughter; the former, unexpectedly young and unchanged,--but a little behind the fashion as to hat and costume. Cara, a well-grown girl of ten, with bright pink cheeks, and eyes the colour of a turquoise, wearing a smart embroidered frock and sash, with an air of overwhelming self-consciousness. They lunched at the ‘Schweizerhof,’ the guests of the traveller, and to the unconcealed delight of Cara,--who had never been inside the hotel till then. She stared at everything and everyone, with sharp, observant glances, and her godmother noted her appetite for piquante sauces, and the richest sweets; also that her blue eyes were hard, with a will and definite purpose, and cast sly quick glances on herself,--as if curious to know the effect she was producing. Naturally with this little ‘pitcher’ present, there was no opportunity for any confidential talk between the grown-ups. Mrs. Hesketh discoursed of home, her journey, and other ordinary topics, and in the lounge after _déjeuner_, Cara stuck to the ladies like the proverbial leech, and was sublimely indifferent to her mother’s timid hint, that ‘she might care to look at the new illustrated papers.’ No, indeed, Cara preferred to listen to this interesting new arrival; her talk was a novelty, she liked to stare at her expensive travelling-dress, her splendid rings, and little jewelled watch. She had nice luggage too, and a maid, and must be rich. Mrs. Hesketh was her godmother, and it was the well-known duty, and the _raison d’être_ of a godmother, to give expensive presents. After the trip down the lake, Mrs. Hesketh received Letty in her charming sitting-room at the ‘Paradis,’ and said, as she closed the door: “_Now_ we can talk a little, my dear. But where is Cara?” “She has gone out on the water with Fritz.” “Do you mean that handsome lad who met us at the boat?” “Yes. They are old playmates. Please tell me, what you think of Cara,” she asked eagerly.