at lies there lighting them home with its long rows
of glowing windows. A glorious day, wife!

Or they would go out on ski over the hills to the woodmen's huts in the
forest, and make a blazing fire in the big chimney and drink steaming
coffee. Then home again through one of those pale winter evenings with
a violet twilight over woods and fields and lake, over white snow and
blue. Far away on the brown hillside in the west stands a farmhouse,
with all its windows flaming with the reflection from a golden cloud.
Here they come rushing, the wind of their passing shaking the snow from
the pines; on, on, over deep-rutted woodcutters' roads, over stumps and
stones--falling, bruising themselves, burying their faces deep in
the snow, but dragging themselves up again, smiling to each other and
rushing on again. Then, reaching home red and dripping, they lean the
ski up against the wall, and stamp the snow off their boots.

"Merle," said Peer, picking the ice from his beard, "we must have a
bottle of Burgundy at dinner to-night."

"Yes--and shall we ring up and ask someone to come over?"

"Someone--from outside? Can't we two have a little jollification all to
ourselves?"

"Yes, yes, of course, if you like."

A shower-bath--a change of underclothes--how delicious! And--an idea!
He'll appear at dinner in evening dress, just for a surprise. But as
he entered the room he stopped short. For there stood Merle herself in
evening dress--a dress of dark red velvet, with his locket round her
neck and the big plaits of hair rolled into a generous knot low on her
neck. Flowers on the table--the wine set to warm--the finest glass, the
best silver--ptarmigan--how splendid! They lift their glasses filled
with the red wine and drink to each other.

The frozen winter landscape still lingered in their thoughts, but the
sun had warmed their souls; they laughed and jested, held each other's
hands long, and sat smiling at each other in long silences.

"A glorious day to-day, Merle. And to-morrow we die."

"What do you say!--to-morrow!"

"Or fifty years hence. It comes to the same thing." He pressed her hand
and his eyes half closed.

"But this evening we're together--and what could we want more?"

Then he fell to talking of his Egyptian experiences. He had once spent
a month's holiday in visiting ruined cities with Maspero, the great
Maspero himself, going with him to Luxor, to Karnak, with its great
avenues of sphinxes, to El Amarna a