put here, not to die for his country, but to live for pudding and kisses,—eh, Rose?’
‘Yes, that is your ‘creed,’ Athelstan, and I’m afraid you have no other,’ answered his wife.
‘There’s some truth in what you say, though, Mr Lockstable,’ remarked Lesbia. ‘It was a manifestly useless, and, therefore, unjustifiable sacrifice.’
‘Ah, you're a sensible young lady, Miss Newman. By the way, I’ve brought you a present from the Swiss, the actual weapon used by William Tell at Hastings, or anyhow, one fit to be used by your muscular arms, whenever you visit mountains with glaciers. Where the deuce an’ all—ah, I left it in the carriage.’
‘How d’you do, won’t you come in?’ said Mrs Bristley, advancing from the house and shaking hands with each. ‘My husband will be sorry to miss you, but he may be in by five.’
‘Here you are, Miss Newman,’ said Lockstable, presenting her with a very workman-like ice-axe.
‘Thanks endless; what a first-rate tool!’ said Lesbia, taking it from his hands. ‘But you needn’t call me Miss Newman any longer, now that you are an appendage of my friend Rose.’
‘Lesbia, then—you must get your uncle to take you to the Alps; it’s just what you’d enjoy. I believe you'd go for Mont Blanc all alone, like that fellaw Jock o’ Ballsack—’
‘Jacques Balmat of Chamounix, I suppose you mean,’ said Lesbia laughing. ‘Balzac was a French novelist; and as for Jock o’ Hazeldean, I’m sure I don’t know who he was. But I shouldn’t take Balmat’s route; I should ascend from St Geovais by the Dôme, and return by the Côte, the Corridor, and the Bossous.’
‘Not without a guide, Lesbie,’ said Mrs Lockstable. ‘It