The next thing was—Ronnie must come too. Ronnie, who was now at Sandhurst, was far more eager to spend his holidays with us than at the Hall; and the dream of his life was to be in some place where you could count on the frost lasting till to-morrow. It is always a mystery to me how in our island, with the Gulf Stream persistently paying attentions to it, anyone learns to skate at all. Ronnie, however, had had the chance to become a good skater, and he longed to be better and to do some skiing and bob-sleighing too. Rose shared his enthusiasm. I must admit to feeling doubtful as to whether it was the wisest thing to take a boy of eighteen and a girl of seventeen to Switzerland in this way; but the fact that their minds were so exclusively set on open-air activities reassured me. And the Fergussons made no objections, beyond expressing the regret that their only son should wish to be away for Christmas. None the less I carried the matter to Mrs. O’Gorman’s tribunal; for when in doubt I invariably adopted that procedure. “Take them? Of course you’ll take them,” she said. “Or rather, they’ll take you. And it’s high time you got away from this mouldy corner and allowed some mountain air to get into your fusty old brain!” “Is it so fusty?” I asked. “Of course it is. How can it be anything else, considering the life you lead? Sitting by the bedsides of bores; prescribing physic; talking weather; pottering about within a radius of five miles when there’s the whole big world waiting for you. I’ve no great opinion of you, as you know, but you’ve got the best brains in the place—London brains, in short—and you do nothing with them. Perhaps when you see Mont Blanc you’ll get a little ambition. I don’t want you to leave us, but I want you to do something besides patching up our twopenny-halfpenny bodies. Write a book.” I laughed aloud at this. How little did I foresee! “Very well, then; make some scientific investigations; anything to justify your gifts.” “The point is,” I said, “is it wise for Rose and Ronnie to be thrown together as they will be on this trip?” “Wise?” “Yes, is it wise?” “I don’t know what you mean by wise. Do you mean, will it increase their inclination to fall in love?” “Well—yes, I suppose I do.” “Would that be so unwise?” she asked. “I don’t know that it would,” I said. “But I’d rather it didn’t happen yet.” “Well,” she said. “If it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen, no matter what you do. And if it isn’t, your taking them to Switzerland won’t make any difference. Both of them are rapidly reaching an age when no one can protect them. Nature will be in charge; not parents or Dr. Grevilles. Switzerland, wherever you go, will be full of young people, and they’ll both make friends, and very likely they’ll lose their hearts too. It’s out of your hands. Supposing you don’t go, it will be just the same.” I acquiesced. * * * * *