t rich Mr. Withells down at Amber Guiting?"

"I remember," and Meg laughed. "He said Mr. Withells was puffy and
stippled."

* * * * *

Tony had been cold ever since he reached the Gulf of Lyons, and he
wondered what could be the matter with him, for he never remembered to
have felt like this before. He wondered miserably what could be the
reason why he felt so torpid and shivery, disinclined to move, and yet
so uncomfortable when he sat still.

After his bath, on that first night in London, tucked into a little bed
with a nice warm eiderdown over him, he still felt that horrid little
trickle of ice-cold water down his spine and could not sleep.

His cot was in Auntie Jan's room with a tall screen round it. The rooms
in the flat were small, tiny they seemed to Tony, after the lofty
spaciousness of the bungalow in Bombay, but that didn't seem to make it
any warmer, because Auntie Jan's window was wide open as it would
go--top and bottom--and chilly gusts seemed to blow round his head in
spite of the screen. Ayah and little Fay were in the nursery across the
passage, where there was a fire. There was no fire in this wind-swept
chamber of Auntie Jan's.

Tony dozed and woke and woke and dozed, getting colder and more forlorn
and miserable with each change of position. The sheets seemed made of
ice, so slippery were they, so unkind and unyielding and unembracing.

Presently he saw a dim light. Auntie Jan had come to bed, carrying a
candle. He heard her say good night to the little mem who had met them
at the station, and the door was shut.

In spite of her passion for fresh air, Jan shivered herself as she
undressed. She made a somewhat hasty toilet, said her prayers, peeped
round the screen to see that Tony was all right, and hopped into bed,
where a hot-water bottle put in by the thoughtful Hannah was most
comforting.

Presently she heard a faint, attenuated sniff. Again it came, this time
accompanied by the ghost of something like a groan.

Jan sat up in bed and listened. Immediately all was perfectly still.

She lay down again, and again came that sad little sniff, and
undoubtedly it was from behind the screen that it came.

Had Tony got cold?

Jan leapt out of bed, switched on the light and tore away the screen
from around his bed.

Yes; his doleful little face was tear-stained.

"Tony, Tony darling, what is the matter?"

"I don't know," he sobbed. "I feel so funny."