"I had a letter this morning from Chamouni," she said.
"Well," replied Mr. Buck, " I suppose you've got friends all over."
"I have friends at Chamouni, but they are leaving. To their great regret." I had got up, too; I listened to this statement, and I wondered. I am almost ashamed to mention the subject of my agitation. I asked myself whether this was a sudden improvisation, consecrated by maternal devotion; but this point has never been elucidated. "They are giving up some charming rooms; perhaps you would like them. I would suggest your telegraphing. The weather is glorious," continued Mrs. Church, "and the highest peaks are now perceived with extraordinary distinctness."
Mr. Ruck listened, as he always listened, respectfully. "Well," he said, "I don't know as I want to go up Mount Blank. That's the principal attraction, isn't it?"
"There are many others. I thought I would offer you an—an exceptional opportunity."
"Well," said Mr. Ruck, "you're right down friendly. But I seem to have more opportunities
