"This method of travelling across country on skis, when there is deep
snow, is hundreds of years old," said Fru Ekman, who had come to send the
twins away for more fun, while she took her place again beside Karen.

"Men were skiing in Scandinavia as long ago as old Roman times, and
Magnus the Good, who defeated the Roman legions, had a company of
ski-soldiers. Gustav Vasa organized a corps of snow-skaters, and Gustavus
Adolphus used his runners as messengers and scouts."

At that moment there was a sudden commotion outside the door, and a crowd
of the skaters came into the casino for some hot coffee, their merry
voices and laughter filling the room. Seldom is there gathered together a
company of finer men and women, boys and girls, than Karen saw before
her. Descendants of the Vikings these were,--golden-haired, keen-eyed and
crimson-cheeked.

"Look at that great fellow, taller than all the others," Fru Ekman
whispered to Karen. "He is the champion figure-skater of Europe."

"He looks like Baldur, the god of the sun," Karen whispered in reply; and
then forgot everything else in watching the gay company.

"I have never seen so many people having such a good time before," she
explained to Fru Ekman after a little while. "At the Sea-gull Light there
was never anything like this. It is more like the stories of the
gathering of the gods, than just plain Sweden.

"I suppose Birger is going to try for a skating prize some day," she
added rather wistfully.