"Nothing whatever," said Berry. "That was to distract your attention." Jill choked with indignation. "I'll never ask you anything again," she said severely. "After all, if you can't help yourself, it isn't likely you can help me. And, any way, I wouldn't have been so silly as to go and cash a cheque when the franc had gone down." "Up," said I relentlessly. "But how can it----" "Look here," said I. "Imagine that all the francs in the world have turned into herrings." "What a joy shopping would be!" said Berry. "Yes," said Jill faithfully. "Well, on Monday you go and buy a pound's worth of herrings. Fish is plentiful, so you get fifty-six." "Yes." "During the night herrings rise." "Get quite high," said Berry. "You have to get out of bed and put your purse on the landing." Adèle began to shake with laughter. "Yes," said Jill earnestly. "So that the next morning," I continued desperately, "when you come to buy another pound's worth of herrings, you only get fifty-three." "That's right," said Berry. "And while you're trying to decide whether to have one or two pounds, they turn into bananas. Then you _are_ done." Jonah took up the cudgels. "It's perfectly simple," he said. "Think of a thermometer." Jill took a deep breath. Then-- "Yes," she said. "Well, on Monday you find it's fifty-six. On Tuesday you look at it again, and find it's fifty-three. That means it's gone down, doesn't it?" "Yes," said his sister hopefully. "Well, with the franc it's just the opposite. It means it's gone up." "Yes." "That's all," said Jonah brutally. Jill looked from him to Daphne and from Daphne to Adèle--dazedly. The former put a hand to her head. "My dear," she said, "I can't help you. Before they started explaining, I had a rough idea of how the thing worked. Now I'm confused for ever. If they are to be believed, in future we've got to say 'up' when we feel inclined to say 'down.' But don't ask me why." She stopped to speak with a member who was leaving the room and had come to pay his respects. After a word or two-- "Visitors' weather," he said. "Perfect, isn't it? But, I say, what a fall in the franc! Three points in a day.... Never mind. It'll go up again." He made his adieus and passed on. It was no good saying anything. A prophet is not without honour, save in his own country. * * * * * It was three days later that we were bowling along the road to Biarritz. The morning was full and good to look upon. Sun, sky, and air offered the best they had. To match their gifts, a green and silver earth strained at the leash of Winter with an eager heart. The valleys smiled, high places lifted up their heads, the hasty Gave de Pau swirled on its shining way, a laughing sash of snow-broth, and all the countryside glowed with the cheerful aspect of a well-treated slave.