When he entered the foyer, Millicent was already in the veranda, a dainty picture in furs and feathers. Somewhat to his surprise, Helen was with her. A good many people were watching them covertly, a quite natural proceeding in view of their strained relations overnight. [Illustration: "It will paralyze the dowager brigade if we hug each other." _Page 309_] Millicent's first action after quitting the _salle a manger_ had been to worm out of Leontine the full, true, and particular history of Etta Stampa, or so much of the story as was known to the hotel servants. The recital was cut short by Helen's visit, but resumed during packing operations, as Millicent had enlarged her store of knowledge considerably during the process of reconciliation. So, alive to possibilities going far beyond a single check, even for five thousand pounds, at the last moment she sent a message to Helen. "Come and see me off," she wrote. "It will simply paralyze the dowager brigade if we hug each other on the mat." Helen agreed. She was not sorry that her critics should be paralyzed, or stupefied, or rendered incapable in some way of inflicting further annoyance. In her present radiant mood, nearly all her troubles having taken unto themselves wings, she looked on yesterday's episode in the light of a rather far fetched joke. Bower stood so high in her esteem that she was sure the outspoken announcement of his intentions was dictated chiefly by anger at Millicent's unfair utterances. Perhaps he had some thought of marriage; but he must seek a wife in a more exalted sphere. She felt in her heart that Spencer was only awaiting a favorable opportunity to declare his love, and she did not strive to repress the wave of divine happiness that flooded her heart at the thought. After much secret pondering and some shy confidences intrusted to Mrs. de la Vere, she had resolved to tell him that if he left the Maloja at once--an elastic phrase in lovers' language--and came to her in London next month, she would have an answer ready. She persuaded herself that there was no other honorable way out of an embarrassing position. She had come to Switzerland for work, not for love making. Spencer would probably wish to marry her forthwith, and that was not to be thought of while "The Firefly's" commission was only half completed. All of which modest and maidenly reasoning left wholly out of account Spencer's strenuous wooing; it is chronicled here merely to show her state of mind when she kissed Millicent farewell.