As I went along the frosty streets I promised myself a perfect orgy of shopping. My wardrobe is too diaphanous for this climate. The cold is almost unbelievable after India. When I got back to the hotel I found the Gidger had had a gorgeous afternoon at the Zoo, and was sitting up in bed, eating her supper, while Nannie cut her bread and butter into ’ladies’ fingers,’ as she had done, oh, how many times for me when I was four years old. I told Nannie matron’s views, and she said, ’Why don’t you go into rooms, Miss Margaret? Then you could have him. You and I could manage for him.’ ’You can see him letting a "parcel of women" hang round him, can’t you, Nannie? No, it must be a nurse or Sam, if we can get him.’ But I agreed to wire to Fernfold, where a pal of Nannie lives, who has a friend who takes in lodgers, and would make us comfortable. Just as I was going down to dinner I got a trunk call. It was Uncle Jasper. ’Your aunt wants to know when you are coming down to us,’ he boomed. ’Where are you speaking from?’ I asked; ’the Manor House?’ ’No, we’re at Rottingdean.’ ’Wallowing in old churches, at least your uncle is,’ came my aunt’s voice, a long way off. ’Won’t you come to us, darling, I’m so worried about Eustace. No, I can’t tell you on the telephone, and we’d so love to have you.’ ’Why aren’t you at home?’ I said. ’Yes, another call; oh, ... don’t cut us off!’ ’Your aunt,’ said Uncle Jasper, seizing the receiver, ’has been very ill with influenza.’ ’Nonsense,’ said Aunt Constance, ’don’t frighten the child, Jasper. I’m all right now, darling.’ ’Shall I meet the 2.5 to-morrow?’ said my uncle. So I told him about Ross and Fernfold. ’What’s the church there?’ he inquired; ’Norman or Early English?’ I could hear his snort of indignation when I said I thought it was a new Wesleyan Chapel! Then we got cut off. Nannie says that her friend’s friend prefers to board her lodgers, ’and you’d better let her, dearie. You won’t like contending with the rations.’ So it’s settled we’re to be boarded if we go to Fernfold. I’m so dead tired I must be getting sleeping sickness. Will there be a letter from ’the black beast’ in the morning? *CHAPTER IV* Such shoppings! The Poppet and I are now considerably warmer than we were, and, we hope, more beautiful. Certainly Michael is considerably poorer.