I myself left the same forenoon, and lay that night amid the smells of Brigues, after a little tour of its hotels, in one of which I found the name of Mrs.Lascelles in the register, while in every one I was prepared to light upon Bob Evers in the flesh.

But that encounter did not occur.
In the early morning I was one of a shivering handful who awaited the diligence for the Furka Pass; and an ominous drizzle made me thankful that my telegram of the previous day had been too late to secure me an outside seat.

It was quite damp enough within.

Nor did the day improve as we drove, or the view attract me in the least.

It was at its worst as a sight, and I at mine as a sightseer.