"We take lunch out to-day, yes, Josef. Lunch for—let me see——"
"Six?" suggested Myra.
"What are we all going to do? Archie said something about skating. I'm off that."
"But whatever we do we must lunch, and it's much nicer outdoors. Six, Josef."
Josef nodded and retired. I took my eighth roll.
"Do let's get off quickly to-day," I said. "There's always so much chat in the morning before we start."
"I've just got one swift letter to write," said Myra, as she got up, "and then I shall be pawing the ground."
Half an hour later I was in the lounge, booted, capped, gloved, and putteed—the complete St. Bernard. The lounge seemed to be entirely full of hot air and entirely empty of anybody I knew. I asked for letters; and, getting none, went out and looked at the thermometer. To my surprise I discovered that there were thirty-seven degrees of frost. A little alarmed, I tapped the thing impatiently. "Come, come," I said, "this is not the time for persiflage." However, it insisted on remaining at five degrees below zero. What I should have done about it I cannot say, but at that moment I remembered that it was a Centigrade thermometer with the freezing point in the wrong place. Slightly disappointed that there were only five degrees of frost (Centigrade) I returned to the lounge.
"Here you are at last," said Archie impatiently. "What are we all going to do?"
"Where's Dahlia?" asked Myra. "Let's wait till she comes and then we can all talk at once."