"We'd find it pretty cold in there," said Grandpapa, "and wish we were back here on this nice seat, Phronsie."
"What makes it so cold up there, Grandpapa, when the sun shines?" asked
Phronsie, suddenly. "Say, Grandpapa, what makes it?"
"Oh, it's so far up in the air," answered old Mr. King. "Don't you remember how cold it was up on the Rigi, and that was about nine thousand feet lower?"
"Oh, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Phronsie, in gentle surprise, unable to compass such figures.
Mr. King's party had made one or two pleasant little journeys to the Lauterbrunnen Valley, staying there and at Mürren, and to Grindelwald as well; but they came back to sit on the benches by the walnut and the plane trees, in front of the matchless Jungfrau. "And this is best of all," said Polly.
And so the days slipped by, till one morning, at the breakfast table,
Mrs. Selwyn said, "Tomorrow we must say good-by—my boy and I."
"Hey—what?" exclaimed Mr. King, setting his coffee-cup down, not very gently.
"Our vacation cannot be a very long one," said Tom's mother, with a little smile; "there are my father and my two daughters and my other boys in England."
Tom's face was all awry as Mr. King said, "And you mean to say, Mrs.
Selwyn, that you really must move on to-morrow?"
"Yes; we really must," she said decidedly. "But oh," and her plain, quiet face changed swiftly, "you cannot know how sorry we shall be to leave your party."