As far as it was possible to make travelling dull, this journey was rendered dull. Sir Arthur and Lady Vaughan seemed to have only one dread, and that was of seeing and being seen. The blinds of the carriage windows were all drawn. "They had not come abroad for scenery, but for change of air," her ladyship observed several times each day. When it was necessary to stay at a hotel, they had a separate suite of rooms. There was no _table d'hote_, no mixing with other travellers; they were completely exclusive. As they drew near Bergheim, Hyacinth's beautiful face grew calm and serene. She even wondered what he would be like, this Adrian Darcy. He was a scholar and a gentleman--but what else? Would he despise her as a child, or admire her as a woman? Would he fall in love with her, or would he remain profoundly indifferent to her charms? She was startled from her reverie by Lady Vaughan's voice. "We will drive straight to the hotel," she said; "Mr. Darcy has taken rooms for us there." "Shall we see him to-night?" asked Sir Arthur. "No, I should imagine not. Adrian is always considerate. He will know we are tired, and consequently not in the best of moods for visitors," she replied. "He will be with us to-morrow morning." And, strange to say, Hyacinth Vaughan, who had once put from her even the thought of Adrian Darcy, felt some slight disappointment that she was not to see him until the morrow. CHAPTER X. "This is something like life," thought Hyacinth Vaughan, as the summer sun came streaming into her room. It was yet early in the morning, but there was a sound of music from the gardens. She drew aside the blinds, and saw a lake in all its beauty, the most cheerful, the brightest scene upon which she had ever gazed. The Hotel du Roi is by far the most aristocratic resort in Bergheim. "Kings, queens, and emperors" have lodged there; some of the leading men and the fairest women in Europe have at times made their home there. The hotel has a certain aristocratic character of its own. Second-rate people never go there; its magnificence is of too quiet and dignified a kind. The gorgeous suites of rooms are always inhabited by some of the leading Continental families. Bergheim itself is a sleepy little town. The lake is very beautiful; tall mountains slope down to the edge; the water is deep, clear, and calm; green trees fringe the banks; water-lilies sleep on its tranquil breast. The Lake of Bergheim has figured in poetry, in song, and in pictures. Hyacinth gazed at it with keen delight. Suddenly it struck her that the house was not Lady Vaughan's, consequently not under her ladyship's control, and that she could go out into those fairylike looking grounds if she wished.