"Not till Call Over at a quarter to nine."
"But why are you here all alone?" the man asked her, and she was afraid of the hungry look in his dark eyes.
"I'm skiing."
"But why do you ski here all alone every morning?" he persisted.
"I like it."
Now at last he let go her arm. "Well, I'm off up the mountain," he said, and without another word or a backwards glance he struck off across the snow.
The thought of him troubled her until she went in to get the mail before Call Over. Then she had a letter that made her so angry that she forgot all about him. The letter was from Eunice, and it ran,
"My dear Philippa, I am glad to hear from your father that at last you are getting along better at school. But I must admit that I am rather hurt that you choose to spend the holidays with some strange boy you have just met rather than with me. However, you have always been an odd child so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I do want to say, though, Philippa dear, that I know your poor father would be happier if you came to Nice, and I assure you that I would see that you had a pleasant vacation. As I said in my letter to you last week, there will be a number of charming young people nearby, and I am sure it would do you good to know them. Just remember that all you have to do if you change your mind is to let me know, and don't forget that you have your father's peace of mind to think of as well as your own choice. It is very hard on him to be laid up in the hospital, poor darling, and I shouldn't think you'd want in any way to add to his worries. I'm afraid this will make you angry, Philippa dear, but do remember that I'm just thinking of your best interests and that I'm very fond of you and devoted to your father. Affectionately, Eunice."
Quivering with rage she tore the letter into as small pieces as possible. Madame Perceval, on duty behind the desk, finished distributing the mail and asked with a smile, "What's the cause of your fury, Flip?"
"It's that Eunice again," Flip said. "A woman who's always after my father. She thinks I ought to spend the holidays with her and I'm afraid she'll try to convince father that I ought to, too. There isn't time for that, is there?"