under his steady gaze, and she dropped her own as if ashamed.
"Whisht, Master Scott darlint, for the Lord's sake, don't ye go upsetting her!" warned Biddy in a sibilant whisper. "I had trouble enough last night. If it hadn't been for the draught, she wouldn't have slept at all, at all."
Scott did not look at her. "You should have called me," he said, and leaning forward took his sister's hand. "Isabel, wouldn't you like to come out and see the skaters? There is some wonderful luging going on too."
She did not raise her eyes; her whole demeanour had changed. She seemed to droop as if all animation had gone; "I don't know," she said listlessly. "I think I would almost as soon stay here."
"Have your tay, darlint!" coaxed Biddy, on her other side.
"Eustace will be coming to look for you if you don't," said Scott.
She started at that, and gave a quick shiver. "Oh no, I don't want
Eustace! Don't let him come here, Stumpy, will you?"
"Shall I go and tell him you are coming then?" asked Scott, his eyes still steadily watching her.
She nodded. "Yes, yes. But I don't want to be made. Basil never made me do things."
Scott rose. "I will wait for you downstairs. Thank you, Biddy. Yes, I'll drink that first. No tea in the world ever tastes like your brew."
"Get along with your blarney, Master Scott!" protested Biddy. "And you and Sir Eustace mustn't tire Miss Isabel out. Remember, she's just come a long journey, and it's not wonderful at all that she don't feel like exerting herself."
A red fire of resentment smouldered in the old woman's eyes, but Scott paid no attention to it. "You'd better get some sleep yourself, Biddy, if you can," he said. "No more, thanks. You will be out in an hour then, Isabel?"
"Perhaps," she said.
He paused, standing beside her. "If you are not out in an hour I shall come and fetch you," he said.
She put forth an appealing hand like a child. "I will come out, Stumpy. I will come out," she said tremulously.
He pressed the hand for a moment. "In an hour then, I want to show you everything. There is plenty to be seen."
He turned to the door, looked back with a parting smile, and went out.
Isabel did not see the smile. She was staring moodily downwards with eyes that only looked within.
CHAPTER II
THE LOOKER-ON
Down on the skating-rink below the hotel, a crowd of people were making merry. The ice was in splendid condition. It sparkled in the sun like a sheet of frosted glass, and over it the skaters glided with much mirth and laughter.
Scott stood on the road above and watched them. There were a good many accomplished performers among them, and there were also several beginners. But all seemed alike infected with the gaiety of the place. There was not one face that did not wear a smile.
It was an invigorating scene. From a slope of the white mountain-side beyond the rink the shouts and laughter of higers came through the crystal air. A string of luges was shooting down the run, and even as Scott caught sight of it the foremost came to grief, and a dozen people rolled ignominiously in the snow. He smiled involuntarily. He seemed to have stepped into an atmosphere of irresponsible youth. The air was full of the magic fluid. It stirred his pulses like a draught of champagne.
Then his eyes returned to the rink, and almost immediately singled out the best skater there. A man in a white sweater, dark, handsome, magnificently made, supremely sure of himself, darted with the swift grace of a swallow through the throng. His absolute confidence and splendid physique made him conspicuous. He executed elaborate figures with such perfect ease and certainty of movement that many turned to look at him in astonished admiration.
"Great Scott!" said a cracked voice at Scott's shoulder.
He turned sharply, and met the frank regard of a rosy-faced schoolboy a little shorter than himself.
"Look at that bloomin' swell!" said the new-comer in tones of deep disgust. "He seems to have sprouted in the night. I've no use for these star skaters myself. They're all so beastly sidey."
He addressed Scott as an equal, and as an equal Scott made reply. "P'raps when you're a star skater yourself, you'll change your mind about 'em."
The boy grinned. "Ah! P'raps! You're a new chum, aren't you?"
"Very new," said Scott.
"Can you skate?" asked the lad. "But of course you can. I suppose you're another dark horse. It's too bad, you know; just as Dinah and I are beginning to fancy ourselves at it. We began right at the beginning too."
"Consider yourself lucky!" said Scott rather briefly.
"What do you mean?" The boy's eyes flashed over him intelligently, green eyes humorously alert.
Scott glanced downwards. "I mean my legs are not a pair, so I can't even begin."
"Oh, bad luck, sir!" The equality vanished from the boy's voice. He became suddenly almost deferential, and Scott realized that he was no longer regarded as a comrade. "Still"—he hesitated—"you can luge, I suppose?"
"I don't quite see myself," said Scott, looking across once more to the merry group on the distant run.
"Any idiot can do that," the boy protested, then turned suddenly a deep red. "Oh, lor, I didn't mean that! Hi, Dinah!" He turned to cover his embarrassment and sent a deafening yell at the sun-bathed façade of the hotel. "Are you never coming, you cuckoo? Half the morning's gone already!"
"Coming, Billy!" at once a clear gay voice made answer, and the merriest face that Scott had ever seen made a sudden appearance at an open window. "Darling Billy, do keep your hair on for just two minutes longer! Yvonne has been trying on my fancy dress, but she's nearly done."
The neck and shoulders below the laughing face were bare and a bare arm waved in a propitiatory fashion ere it vanished.
"Looks as if the fancy dress is a minus quantity," observed Billy to his companion with a grin. "I didn't see any of it, did you?"
Scott tried not to laugh. "Your sister?" he asked.
Billy nodded affirmation. "She ain't a bad urchin," he observed, "as sisters go. We're staying here along with the de Vignes. Ever met 'em? Lady Grace is a holy terror. Her husband is a horrible stuck-up bore of an Anglo-Indian—thinks himself everybody, and tells the most awful howlers. Rose—that's the daughter—is by way of being very beautiful. There she goes now; see? That golden-haired girl in red! She's another of your beastly star skaters. I'll bet she'll have that big bounder cutting capers with her before the day's out."
"Think so?" said Scott.
Billy
