She had already breakfasted and was smoking a cigarette and laughing gayly with an American girl she had met on the previous night, and apparently awaiting her husband.
In a few moments the husband, in a wind-proof ski-suit and wearing one of those peaked caps of blue serge which nobody dare wear save the practiced ski-runner, came down with a word of apology.
“I broke my boot-lace, dearest. I apologize.”
“Oh! That’s all right, Stan,” she laughed, “John has got the food in his rucksack.”
Then I saw that John von Allmen, the intrepid and popular young guide, was waiting outside for them. They were going on a skiing excursion up the Schelthorn. Certainly they were no novices! I soon afterwards discovered they had both passed their “tests” in previous winters at Wengen and Pontresina.
The sun was shining brightly upon the newly fallen snow, although it was not yet nine o’clock, and as I watched the happy young couple adjust the ski-bindings to the boots and take their ski-sticks, those iron spiked poles of cherry wood with circular ends of cane to prevent sinking where the snow is soft, I noted how merry and blissful they were.
Suddenly the tall, lithe, young Alpine guide in his neat blue serge skiing suit drew on his leather mitts, hitched on his rucksack and the little party slid swiftly away over the snow.
It was clear the girl was an expert—her every movement showed it. Those who go skiing well know the difficulty of keeping their balance on the long, narrow planks turned up in front which constitute ski. But the bride had long ago passed through the initial stages. As I found out later she had been year after year to winter sports and had long passed the period when she practiced her “telemarks” and “stemmings” on the “Nursery Slopes.” Her lithe swift movements were delightful to watch and it was clear she was enjoying to the full the keen exhilaration born of the swift gliding over the crisp snow.
As I stood watching the swift progress of the Audleys and their guide, old Dr. Feng spoke behind me.
“A pretty sight, Yelverton. It is good, indeed, to be young. There’s an example of the fate lying before you: you’ll have to marry some day, you know.”