“Whichever you please. I believe ages ago, when he was young and active, Sladen was a first-class man on a horse, and rode races. Who would think it to look at him now? he weighs about seventeen stone!”
“And completely upsets the old theory, that fat people are always good-natured!”
“He is keen enough about horses and ponies still; you may notice that he has always good animals.”
“Good to look at,” amended Miss Gordon quickly.
“Yes, and to go as well; and as he cannot ride them to sell, as he used to do once, he now thrusts poor unfortunate Mrs. Sladen into the saddle. The Noah’s Ark animals have not been so badly paired,” continued the young man. “Please look at the Dâk Bungalow fowl walking with the European ham! Do you think the combination was premeditated?”
“No, purely accidental, I should imagine. I must say that I think it is a shame, the way people are given nick-names!”
“I suppose it is an idle amusement for idle minds. I believe that I have been honoured with one or two new names myself—I don’t mind in the least—and I happen to know for a fact that Waring is extremely pleased with his!”
“Which is more than would be the case with most people. For instance, do you suppose that Miss Cook would be pleased to hear that she is known as ‘good plain Cook’?”
“Well, you know our nurses used to tell us, that it is better to be good than beautiful! And here we are!”
The rendezvous was now reached, Honor and her companion being almost the last to arrive. There was a superb and uninterrupted view of the snows, but the sight of something to eat would have been preferred by some folk. What had become of the coolies and the tiffin? The table-cloths were spread (and even decorated), but save for some bowls of salad, and a meagre allowance of rolls, nothing eatable was to be seen.