here and get just a little something to sustain
us?"

"Of course we ought," she said, in a weak voice. So we went in and got
a light luncheon. Then we went back to the hotel, intending to lie
down and rest after such an arduous day.

"We must not do this again," I said, firmly. "Mamma told me
particularly not to overdo."

My companion did not answer. She was looking at the clock. It was just
noon.

"Why, _that_ clock has stopped too," she said.

But as we looked into the reading-room _that_ clock struck twelve.
Then it dawned on me, and I dropped into a chair and nearly had
hysterics.

"It's because we are so far _north_!" I cried. "Our watches were all
right and the sun's all right. That is as high as it can get!"

She was too much astonished to laugh.

"And you had to go in and get luncheon because you felt so faint," she
said, in a tone of gentle sarcasm.

"Well, you confessed to a fearful sense of goneness yourself."

"Don't tell anybody," she said.

"I should think not!" I retorted, with dignity. "I hope I have _some_
pride."

"Have you presented your letter to the ambassador?" she asked.

"Yes, but it's so near Christmas that I suppose he won't bother about
two waifs like us until after it's over."

"My! but you _are_ blue," she said. "I never heard you refer to
yourself as a waif before."

"I am a worm of the dust. I wish there wasn't such a thing as
Christmas! I wonder what Billy will say when he sees his tree."

"You might cable and find out," she said. "It only costs about three
marks a word. 'What did Billy say when he saw his tree?'--nine
words--it would cost you about eight dollars, without counting the
address."

Dead silence. I didn't think she was at all funny.

"Don't you think we ought to have champagne to-morrow?" she asked.

"What for? I hate the stuff. It makes me ill. Do _you_ want it?"

"No, only I thought that, being Christmas, and very expensive, perhaps
it would do you good to spend--"

A knock on the door made us both jump.

"His Excellency the Ambassador of the United States to see the
American ladies!"

It was, indeed, Mr. White and Mrs. White, and Lieutenant Allen, the
Military Attache!

"Oh, those blessed angels!" I cried, buckling my belt and dashing for
the wash-stand, thereby knocking the comb and hand-glass from the
grasp of my companion.

They had come within an hour of the presentation of my letter, and
they brought with them an invitation from Mrs.