“You look tired,” he said, “when we reach the Hotel Bel Oiseau I will order some tea to be got ready while we go on to the best point of view.” “But are you sure we shall have time. We must not miss that train,” said Evereld. “Oh, plenty of time. It’s all down hill going back, and besides the horse must rest, and the driver will certainly expect to drink our health in the _vin du pays_.” His manner set her mind at rest, and indeed for a time she forgot all else in the wonderful panorama that opened out before them as Mont Blanc and the Chamounix Valley came into view. It was a scene to remember for a lifetime, and Evereld, with her young heart and her clear conscience, was able to revel in its beauty, and to cast off altogether all petty cares and vexations. These, however, returned when they went back to the Hotel Bel Oiseau; a mistake had been made--or so Bruce Wylie told her--as to the tea, and it took a long time in coming. Then there was yet another delay because the coachman had mysteriously disappeared, and when at last the horse was put in and they turned back to Vernayaz, Evereld was certain that they had allowed very scanty time for the descent. “It’s as much as we shall do to catch this train,” remarked her companion, as they at length gained the valley. “There is a train now just passing,” exclaimed Evereld. “Not ours, I daresay,” said Bruce Wylie, “no,” looking at his watch reassuringly, “it’s not due for another ten minutes. We shall do it all right, don’t be anxious.” “There, we are punctual to the minute,” he remarked, as they drew up at the station, “and no train is here. Ha! what’s that you say?” he added, as an old porter came leisurely up to them. “The train gone? Why, it’s only now due.” The porter explained, with many gesticulations, that the Monsieur’s watch was ten minutes slow. “How annoying,” said Bruce Wylie, “when is the next train for St. Maurice and Territet?” “There are no more this evening, monsieur,” said the porter. “Monsieur will find many good hotels in Vernayaz.” Bruce Wylie made a well feigned ejaculation of annoyance. “The others will have seen that we were not there,” said Evereld, springing out of the carriage, “I will run and look for Janet;” but she returned forlornly in a minute, for Janet was not there. “I think she might have waited,” said the girl, indignantly. “Oh, they would naturally conclude we should come on by a later train as we didn’t turn up till this one started,” said Bruce Wylie, “in fact I told the Major we should do that if by any ill fortune we were too late. Who could have guessed that there were no trains later than this?” “You looked out the trains yourself yesterday,” said Evereld, “I should have thought you would have noticed.” She felt intensely irritated, it was one of those times when a traveller’s temper is put to the test.