Fräulein Hauser blew her whistle. "We will stop here for lunch," she announced. They sprawled about on the largest rocks, opening their lunches. They had bread and cheese, an apple and an orange, some sweet biscuits, and a little twist of paper containing salt and pepper for the hard-boiled egg in the bottom of the bag. Madame Perceval carried a canteen of coffee and a flask of brandy in case of emergency, and they each had a canteen filled with fresh water from the school. Flip sprawled on a small rock near Madame Perceval, who was laughing and joking with a group of girls. She smiled warmly at Flip and tried to draw her into the conversation, but Flip sat there shyly, afraid that if she spoke she would say the wrong thing and someone would laugh at her. One of the girls was missing salt and pepper from her package, and Flip offered hers. At the careless "Thanks, Pill," Madame Perceval looked at Flip intently, not missing the quick flush that always came to her face at the use of the nick-name. After they had finished eating they started to climb again. Now the way became rockier and steeper, and Flip and several of the less athletic girls were panting and ready to flop down on the turf long before they reached the flat plateau of the Col. Flip's throat was dry and aching and her heart thumped painfully against her ribs. But when they finally reached the summit, she realized that the climb was more than worth it. She dropped on to a patch of rust colored grass; the sky was incredibly blue above her and the Dent de Jaman rose out of the Col like a white castle, like the home of the Snow Queen in Andersen's fairy tale. A small wind blew across her hot cheeks and the ache in her knee dwindled and the sunlight made the old, rusty grass seem almost golden. She closed her eyes and the sunlight flickered over her eyelids and the grass pricked through her uniform into her skin and she rolled over and laid her cheek against a flat grey rock and somewhere, far off, she heard a bird singing. Although it was not anywhere near tea-time according to the school clock, they had eaten lunch shortly after eleven and Madame Perceval and Fräulein Hauser started handing around packets of marmalade sandwiches. At the sound of the whistle Flip rose and straggled over to the girls surrounding the teachers. She stood on the outskirts, still looking about her at the sky and the mountains and the snow, and feeling that wonderful surge of happiness at the beauty that always banished any loneliness or misery she might be feeling. Somehow a miscount had been made in the school kitchen when the tea was packed and Solvei and Jackie, and of course Flip, the last one on the outskirts, found themselves without anything to eat for tea. A small chalet stood across the ridge and Madame Perceval said, "I know Monsieur and Madame Rasmée. They're used to serving meals to amateur mountain climbers and I know they could take care of these girls. Suppose I take them over."