any people.
If there is anybody you would like to dance with----"

I looked round the room. It was too good a chance to miss.

"I wonder," I said. "That girl over there--in the pink frock--just
putting up her fan----"

He almost embraced me.

"I congratulate you on your taste," he said. "Excellent! Come with me."

He went over to the girl in the pink dress, I at his heels.

"Er--may I introduce?" he said. "Mr.--er--er--yes, this is
Miss--er--yes. H'r'm." Evidently he didn't know her name.

"Thank you," I said to him. He nodded and left us. I turned to the girl
in the pink frock. She was very pretty.

"May I have this dance?" I asked. "I've got my gloves on," I added.

She looked at me gravely, trying hard not to smile.

"You may," said Myra.

II.--THE OPENING RUN

With a great effort Simpson strapped his foot securely into a ski and
turned doubtfully to Thomas.

"Thomas," he said, "how do you know which foot is which?"

"It depends whose," said Thomas. He was busy tying a large rucksack of
lunch on to himself, and was in no mood for Samuel's ball-room chatter.

"You've got one ski on one foot," I said. "Then the other ski goes on
the foot you've got over. I should have thought you would have seen
that."

"But I may have put the first one on wrong."

"You ought to know, after all these years, that you are certain to have
done so," I said severely. Having had my own hired skis fixed on by the
_concierge_ I felt rather superior. Simpson, having bought his in
London, was regarded darkly by that gentleman, and left to his own
devices.

"Are we all ready?" asked Myra, who had kept us waiting for twenty
minutes. "Archie, what about Dahlia?"

"Dahlia will join us at lunch. She is expecting a letter from Peter by
the twelve o'clock post and refuses to start without it. Also she
doesn't think she is up to ski-ing just yet. Also she wants to have a
heart-to-heart talk with the girl in red, and break it to her that
Thomas is engaged to several people in London already."

"Come on," growled Thomas, and he led the way up the hill. We followed
him in single file.

It was a day of colour, straight from heaven. On either side the
dazzling whiteness of the snow; above, the deep blue of the sky; in
front of me the glorious apricot of Simpson's winter suiting. London
seemed a hundred years away. It was impossible to work up the least
interest in the Home Rule Bill, the Billiard Tournament, or the state of
St.