had stopped outside the third window and smiled and
nodded through it; in vain--when the street was deserted and there
was none to notice--he went through a bit of the manual of arms on the
pavement outside, ending by setting his gun down with a martial and
ringing clang.

In vain had Peter exhausted himself in literary efforts, climbing
unheard-of peaks, taking walking-tours through such a Switzerland as
never was, shooting animals of various sorts, but all hornless, as he
carefully emphasized.

And now Jimmy was better again. He was propped up in bed, and with the
aid of Nurse Elisabet he had cut out a paper sentry and set it in the
barred window. The real sentry had been very much astonished; he had
almost fallen over backward. On recovering he went entirely through the
manual of arms, and was almost seen by an Oberst-lieutenant. It was all
most exciting.

Harmony had been to see Jimmy on the day in question. She had taken
him some gelatin, not without apprehension, it being her first essay in
jelly and Jimmy being frank with the candor of childhood. The jelly had
been a great success.

It was when she was about to go that Jimmy broached a matter very near
his heart.

"The horns haven't come, have they?" he asked wistfully.

"No, not yet."

"Do you think he got my letter about them?"

"He answered it, didn't he?"

Jimmy drew a long breath. "It's very funny. He's mostly so quick. If I
had the horns, Sister Elisabet would tie them there at the foot of the
bed. And I could pretend I was hunting."

Harmony had a great piece of luck that day. As she went home she saw
hanging in front of the wild-game shop next to the delicatessen store
a fresh deer, and this time it was a stag. Like the others it hung head
down, and as it swayed on its hook its great antlers tapped against the
shop door as if mutely begging admission.

She could not buy the antlers. In vain she pleaded, explained, implored.
Harmony enlisted the Portier, and took him across with her. The
wild-game seller was obdurate. He would sell the deer entire, or he
would mount head and antlers for his wife's cousin in Galicia as a
Christmas gift.

Harmony went back to the lodge and climbed the stairs. She was
profoundly depressed. Even the discovery that Peter had come home early
and was building a fire in the kitchen brought only a fleeting smile.
Anna was not yet home.

Peter built the fire. The winter dusk was falling and Harmony made a
movement