"Not bad for a beginner," she replied composedly. "Would you like really to learn to skate? Because, if you would, I'll give you a lesson." "Well, I'm hanged! Come on, and let's see what you can do yourself!" She got up and peeled off her jacket; before she put it down on the hurdle, she produced an orange from the pocket of it. Motioning Arthur to follow her, she glided gently to the middle of the ice and dropped the orange on to it. Having done this and given him a grave glance, she proceeded to execute what was to him at least an inconceivably and dazzlingly complicated figure. When it was at last achieved, it landed her by his side, and she asked "How's that for high?" "You humbug! How dare you say nothing about it? Letting me make a fool of myself like that! How did you learn?" "Oh, in Switzerland. I often went there in the winter--before Hilsey claimed me. Come and try." Arthur tried, but felt intolerably clumsy. His little skill was vanity, his craft mere fumbling! Yet gradually something seemed to impart itself from her to him--a dim inkling of the real art of it, not the power to do as she did, but some idea of why she had the power and of what he must do to gain it. She herself seemed to be far beyond skill or art. She seemed part of the ice--an emanation from it, a spirit-form it gave out. "Why, you must be a champion, Judith!" "I just missed it, last year I was out," she answered. "I think you show quite a knack." "I've had enough. Give me an exibition!" "Really?" He nodded, and she smiled in pleasure. "I love it better than anything in the world," she said, as she turned and darted away across the ice. He sat down on the hurdle, and smoked his pipe while he watched her. He could see her glowing cheeks, her eyes gleaming with pleasure, her confident enraptured smile--above all, the graceful daring turns and twists of her slim figure, so full of life, of suppleness, of the beauty of perfect balance and of motion faultlessly controlled--all sign of effort hidden by consummate mastery. She was grace triumphant, and the triumph irradiated her whole being--her whole self--with a rare fine exhilaration; it infected the onlooker and set his blood tingling through his veins in sympathetic exultation. At last she came to a stop opposite to him--cheeks red, eyes shining, chest heaving, still full of that wonderful motion waiting to be loosed again at the bidding of her will. "I never saw anything like it!" he cried. "You're beautiful, beautiful, Judith!" "You mean--it's beautiful," she laughed, her cheeks flushing to a more vivid red. "I meant what I said," he persisted almost indignantly. "Beautiful!" She did not try to conceal her pleasure and pride. "I'm glad, Arthur." "Look here, you've got to teach me how to do it--some of it, anyhow." "I will, if the frost will only last. Let's pray to heaven!" "And you've got to come to Switzerland with me next winter." "I'll think about that!"