During our tour I had never betrayed by word or by act the state of my feelings toward Daphne. Satisfied with the pleasure of daily companionship with her, I was quite content to bide my time patiently, and wait for some clear indication that George had passed--not from her memory, for that could never happen, but from her affections, before venturing to express for the second time the love I had never ceased to bear.
We had arrived at Rivoli only the preceding evening, and were staying at a châlet belonging to a Swiss gentleman who had let it to us for a month. He had left behind one member of his household to supplement our own servants--an agreeable, talkative old woman, who had received us with an effusive hospitality.
A light step now sounded on the terrace and Daphne's sweet voice greeted us.
"I shall not say good-morning, for you don't deserve it. Why didn't you call me earlier, papa, that I too might have seen the sun rise?"
Her father kissed her hands as though she were some princess.
"Because I knew you would be tired after the jolting of that horrible diligence yesterday," he said; "and so I let you rest. But you have no hat, and the mornings here are chilly."
I ran indoors, and returned with a heavy wrap which I drew round her head and neck.
"Well, Daphne," my uncle said, waving his hand towards the châlet, "what do you think of our home for the next month?"
"It is lovely," she said, moving backward from the house to survey it better. "Just the place to dream away a summer holiday in."
It was indeed as picturesque a structure as could be found on a day's march through Switzerland. It was composed of fir-wood painted red, and the pretty low gallery which ran completely round it, together with the projecting roof, was adorned with the richest carvings.
"I see," remarked my uncle, "that the piety of the architect has decorated the facade with Scriptural texts--a common custom about here, I have observed. All in Latin--from the Vulgate, I suppose. Now, Daphne, show us your scholarship by translating them. What does the word over the entrance mean?"
"Over the entrance?" said Daphne, turning her eyes upon the carved porch. "'Reveniet;' that means 'He shall return.'"
Only one Latin word, and yet it had the power to make me tremble! During our Continental tour I had been continually haunted by the idea that in the next city or castle, or cathedral or palace, or ruin or theatre visited by us we should come face to face with George--an issue fraught with peril to my love enterprise. Though I was unable to assign any definite reason for it, this opinion had gained strength since our arrival at Rivoli.