treak of snow that rolled back to the horses' feet amidst the
whirling trees. It was wonderfully exhilarating--the rush of the lurching
sleigh, the hammering of the hoofs, and the scream of the wind--but Miss
Schuyler realized that it was also unpleasantly risky as she remembered
the difficult turn before one came to the bridge.

She decided, however, that there was nothing to be gained by pointing this
out to her companion, for Hetty, who sat swaying a little in the driving
seat, had been in a somewhat curious mood since the attack on Cedar Range,
and unusually impatient of advice or remonstrance. Indeed, Flora Schuyler
fancied that it was the restlessness she had manifested once or twice of
late which impelled her to hurl the sleigh down into the hollow at that
reckless pace. So she said nothing, until the streak of snow broke off
close ahead, and there were only trees in front of them. Then, a wild
lurch cut short the protest she made, and she gasped as they swung round
the bend and flashed across the bridge. The trail, however, led steeply
upwards now, and Hetty, laughing, dropped the reins upon the plodding
horses' necks.

"Didn't that remind you of the Chicago Limited?" she said.

"I was wondering," said Miss Schuyler breathlessly, "if you had any reason
for trying to break your neck."

"Well," said Hetty, with a twinkle in her eyes, "I felt I had to do
something a little out of the usual, and it was really safe enough.
Everybody feels that way now and then, and I couldn't well work it off by
quarrelling with you, or going out and talking to the boys as my father
does. I don't know a better cure than a gallop or a switchback in a
sleigh."

"Some folks find it almost as soothing to tell their friends what is
worrying them, and I scarcely think it's more risky," said Miss Schuyler.

Hetty's face became grave. "Well," she said, "one can talk to you, and I
have been worried, Flo. I know that it is quite foolish, but I can't help
it. I came back to see my father through the trouble, and I'm going to;
but while I know that he's ever so much wiser than I am, some of the
things he has to do hurt me. It's our land, and we're going to keep it;
but it's not nice to think of the little children starving in the snow."

This, Miss Schuyler decided, was perfectly correct, so far as it went; but
she also felt tolerably certain that, while it was commendable, Hetty's
loyalty to her father would be strenuously tested, and did