“Thou wilt not suffer, Adelheid, by the exposure on the lake!” he said, studying her face until the tell-tale blood stole to her very temples.

“Agitation of the mind is a good antidote to the consequences of bodily exposure.  So far from suffering by what has passed, I feel stronger to-day and better able to endure fatigue, than at any time since we came through the gates of Willading.  This balmy air, to me, seems Italy, and I see no necessity to journey farther in search of what they said was necessary to my health, agreeable objects and a generous sun.”

“You will not cross the St. Bernard!” he exclaimed in a tone of disappointment.

Adelheid smiled, and he felt encouraged, though the smile was ambiguous.  Notwithstanding the really noble sincerity of the maiden’s disposition, and her earnest desire to set his heart at ease, nature, or habit, or education, for we scarcely know to which the weakness ought to be ascribed, tempted her to avoid a direct explanation.

“Why need one desire aught that is more lovely than this?” she answered, evasively.  “Here is a warm air, such a scene as Italy can scarcely surpass, and a friendly roof.  The experience of the last twenty-four hours gives little encouragement for attempting the St. Bernard, notwithstanding the fair promises of hospitality and welcome that have been so liberally held out by the good canon.”

“Thy eye contradicts thy tongue, Adelheid; thou art happy and well enough to use pleasantry to-day.  For heaven’s sake, do not neglect to profit by this advantage, however, under a mistaken opinion that Blonay is the well-sheltered Pisa.  When the winter shall arrive, thou wilt see that these mountains are still the icy Alps, and the winds will whistle through this crazy castle, as they are wont to sing in the naked corridors of Willading.”

“We have time before us, and can think of this.  Thou wilt proceed to Milan, no doubt, as soon as the revels of Vevey are ended.”

“The soldier has little choice but duty.  My long and frequent leaves of absence of late,—­leaves that have been liberally granted to me on account of important family-concerns,—­impose an additional obligation to be punctual, that I may not seem forgetful of favors already enjoyed.  Although we all owe a heavy debt to nature, our voluntary engagements have ever seemed to me the most serious.”

Adelheid listened with breathless attention.  Never before had he uttered the word family, in reference to himself, in her presence.  The allusion appeared to have created unpleasant recollections in the mind of the young man himself, for when he ceased to speak his countenance fell, and he even appeared to be fast forgetting the presence of his fair companion.  The latter turned sensitively from a subject which she saw gave him pain, and endeavored to call his thoughts to other things.  By an unforeseen fatality, the very expedient adopted hastened the explanation she would now have given so much to postpone.