); for she
had been ordered abroad, after an illness, to pull herself together a
little, and her doctor had agreed with Archie that she might as well do
it at a place where her husband could skate. On the point that Peter
should come and skate too, however, Archie was firm. While admitting
that he loved his infant son, he reminded Dahlia that she couldn't
possibly get through Calais and Pontarlier without declaring Peter, and
that the duty on this class of goods was remarkably heavy. Peter,
therefore, was left behind. He had an army of nurses to look after him,
and a stenographer to take down his more important remarks. With a
daily bulletin and a record of his table-talk promised her, Dahlia was
prepared to be content.

As for Myra and me, we might have hesitated to take another holiday so
soon, had it not been for a letter I received one morning at breakfast.

"Simpson is going." I said. "He has purchased a pair of skis."

"That does it," said Myra decisively. And, gurgling happily to herself,
she went out and bought a camera.

For Thomas I can find no excuses. At a moment of crisis he left his
country's Navy in jeopardy and, the Admiralty yacht being otherwise
engaged, booked a first return from Cook's. And so it was that at four
o'clock one day we arrived together at the Hotel des Angeliques, and
some three hours later were settling down comfortably to dinner.

"I've had a busy time," said Archie. "I've hired a small bob, a luge and
a pair of skis for myself, a pair of snow-shoes and some skates for
Dahlia, a--a tricycle horse for Simpson, and I don't know what else. All
in French."

"What _is_ the French for a pair of snow-shoes?" asked Myra.

"I pointed to them in French. The undersized Robert I got at a bargain.
The man who hired it last week broke his leg before his fortnight was
up, and so there was a reduction of several centimes."

"I've been busy too," I said. "I've been watching Myra unpack, and
telling her where not to put my things."

"I packed jolly well--except for the accident."

"An accident to the boot-oil," I explained. "If I get down to my last
three shirts you will notice it."

We stopped eating for a moment in order to drink Dahlia's health. It was
Dahlia's health which had sent us there.

"Who's your friend, Samuel?" said Archie, as Simpson caught somebody's
eye at another table and nodded.

"A fellow I met in the lift," said Simpson casually.

"Samuel, beware of elevator acquai