blanket and reached across to clasp his. "You must know, dear, how
happy I am to have found you. No one else could have done this."

"Oh, yes, little girl," soberly. "Wasson would have gone on, if I had
been the one to go down. The hardest part of it all was waiting for
the storm to cease, not knowing where you were hidden--that nearly
drove me insane."

"I understand; uncertainty is harder to bear than anything else. Shall
I tell you now what happened to me?"

"Yes," tenderly, "as much, or as little as you please."

"Then it shall be everything, dear," her hand-grasp tightening. A
moment she hesitated, looking out across the snow plains, and then back
into his eyes. From their expression she gained courage to proceed,
her voice low, yet clear enough to make every syllable distinctly
audible.

"I--I was frightened when you left me alone on the balcony, and went in
to confront Mrs. Dupont. I knew the woman and suspected that she would
only be too glad to find some indiscretion she could use against me.
It occurred to me that possibly she had seen me enter the parlor and
was there herself to make sure. If so, she would hesitate at no trick
to verify her suspicions. This thought so took possession of me that I
determined to escape if possible. And it appeared easy of
accomplishment. There was but a short drop to the ground, while a few
steps around the end of the hotel would bring me safely to the front
entrance. The temptation to try was irresistible. I heard your voices
within and thought I understood her game. It was dark below, yet I