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'Will you trust yourself with me, Lady Mary?' asked Hammond, looking at
her with a gaze so earnest--so much more earnest than the occasion
required--that her blushes deepened and her eyelids fell. 'I have done a
good deal of climbing in my day, and I am not afraid of anything
Helvellyn can do to me. I promise to take great care of you if you will
come.'
How could she refuse? How could she for one moment pretend that she did
not trust him, that her heart did not yearn to go with him. She would
have climbed the shingly steep of Cotapaxi with him--or crossed the
great Sahara with him--and feared nothing. Her trust in him was
infinite--as infinite as her reverence and love.
'I am afraid Fraeulein would make a fuss,' she faltered, after a pause.
'Hang Fraeulein,' cried Maulevrier, puffing at his cigarette, and kicking
about the stones in the clear running water. 'I'll square it with
Fraeulein. I'll give her a pint of fiz with her lunch, and make her see
everything in a rosy hue. The good soul is fond of her Heidseck. You
will be back by afternoon tea.


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