The Golden Peaks Read Online Free PDF Page B

thank you, sir.”
    “Good. Well, goodnight, Celia.”
    “Goodnight, sir.”
    She went out of the office, but did not return to the kitchen. Inga and Lisel were still carrying coffee to the lounge, but she had nothing more to do tonight. She went up to her room feeling miserable. Irresponsible, she thought . Is that what he thinks of me? Oh lord, as if it wouldn’t do me good to be irresponsible for a change. Sometimes I feel that I’ve taken on too much responsibility.
    She walked out on to the balcony, and dropped on to the old chaise-longue. She felt very much a stranger in a strange land. Dorothy was her only link with the old life, and Dorothy was perched up high on the mountain fighting her own fight. Tears burned the back of Celia’s eyes, and presently slid slowly down her cheeks. If there were somebody who cared, she thought—just one person. If her mother could be here, or Peter; or even Dorothy, so that they could hold hands and laugh together over some common experience. She sat still in the darkness, forlorn, lonely, and the tears slid unceasingly down her cheeks and dropped on to the hand-made lace of her blouse.
    Next day, Kurt sat in his office, planning his cam paign for the spring. This was the time of year when there was much to do. He owned three hotels, and each of the three was conducted on different lines from the others. There was the Bellevue on the shores of Lake Lucerne, which was closed all the winter, and re-opened before Easter; the Rotihorn , in the Bernese Oberland, which was open all the year, but enjoyed two peaks of popularity, one for the wintersport and the other for climbing in the summer; and the grand Mirabella, in the south, near the Italian lakes, which was also open all the year.
    He had excellent managers in the Bellevue and the Mira bella —perhaps it was the secret of Kurt’s success that he was able to choose trustworthy and able people to work for him. Here, at the Rotihorn , he made his headquarters, so there was no need for a manager here. Johanna ran the housekeeping; Anneliese helped him run the office, and m anaged the guests’ outings, expeditions, concerts and dances.
    He was busy at the moment on the Bellevue. It had been necessary this year to do a great deal of decorating. He went through the bills for this work, and made a note of the bookings so far made for Easter. The Bellevue was usually full from Easter until September, but nowadays, with so many new problems, chiefly to do with post-war currencies, things must not be taken for granted.
    Suddenly, as he sat at his work, he was startled by a tremendous crash from the corridor, followed by a tumult of voices. He was out in the corridor immediately, to discover a knot of people gathered together near the dining room. He went towards them.
    “What is happening here?” he asked.
    Several people spoke to him at once. Lisel and one of the kitchenmaids moved aside, and he saw Celia standing amid a pile of debris, with blood running down her white apron, and her face pale and shaken.
    “I'm most terribly sorry,” said a voice at Kurt’s side, and he turned to confront a tall, broad young man with an anxious face. “It was all my fault, I’m afraid. I was late for luncheon, and was charging down the corridor; and I pelted round the corner straight into Celia and her tray.”
    There was an unpleasant mess on the floor, where broken glass and china mixed with vegetables, sauce and salad. Kurt spoke to the kitchenmaid :
    “Get this cleaned up,” he said. “All right, everybody, go on with what you were doing. You, Ce li a, come with me. We must see to this arm. ”
    Hertha had given her a table napkin, which she was holding to her arm. Kurt saw that she was trembling. He put a hand behind her shoulder, and propelled her before him into his office. The tall young man hovered anxiously in the background.
    “I say, sir,” he said, “you do understand that it was all my fault, don’t you? It was entirely due