He could not sleep. It had no memories there to comfort him. He got up, and went across the sitting-room to the room his lady had left so lately. Alas! it was all dismantled of her beautiful things. The bed unmade and piled with uncovered hotel pillows, and a large German eiderdown, on top of folded blankets, it all looked ghastly and sad and cold. And more depressed than ever he crept back to his own bed. Next morning was grey--not raining, but dull grey clouds all over the sky. Not a tempting prospect to spend it in a launch on the lake. A wind, too, swept the water into small rough wavelets. Would she come? The uncertainty was almost agony. He was waiting long before the time appointed, and walked up and down anxiously scanning the direction towards Lucerne. Yes, that was the launch making its way along, not a moment late. Oh! what joy thrilled his being! He glowed all over--in ten minutes or less he could clasp her hands. But when the launch came in full view, he perceived no lady was there--only Dmitry's black form stood alone by the chairs. Paul's heart sank like lead. He could hardly contain his anxiety until the servant stepped ashore and handed him a letter, and this was its contents: "My beloved one--I am not well to-day--a foolish chill. Nothing of consequence, only the cold wind of the lake I could not face. At one o'clock, when Lucerne is at lunch, come to me by the terrace gate. Come to me, I cannot live without you, Paul." "What is it, Dmitry?" he said anxiously. "Madame is not ill, is she? Tell me--" "Not ill--oh no!" the servant said, only Paul must know Madame was of a delicacy at times in the cold weather, and had to be careful of herself. He added, too, that it would be wiser if Paul would lunch early before they started, because, as he explained, it was not for the people of the hotel to know he was there, and how else could he eat? All of which advice was followed, and at one o'clock they landed at Lucerne, and Paul walked quickly towards his goal, Dmitry in front to see that the way was clear. Yes--there was no one about for the moment, and like ghosts they glided through the little terrace door, and Paul went into the room by the window, while Dmitry held the heavy curtains, and then disappeared. It was empty--the fact struck a chill note, in spite of the great bowls of flowers and the exquisite scent. His tiger was there, and the velvet pillows of old. All was warm and luxurious, as befitting the shrine of his goddess and Queen. Only he was alone--alone with his thoughts. An incredible excitement swept through him, his heart beat to suffocation in the longing for her to come. Was it possible--was it true that soon she would be in his arms? A whole world of privation and empty hours to make up for in their first kiss.