, with a little red spot in either
cheek. "Why don't you say something?" she asked. "Are you waiting for
me?"

"I don't know that anything very appropriate occurs to me. You know I'm
devoutly thankful you have both escaped injury," said the man, who was
more shaken than he cared to admit.

"Then I'll have to begin," and Hetty's eyes sparkled. "It was my fault,
Mr. Clavering, and, if it is any relief to you, I feel most horribly
ashamed of my obstinacy. Will that satisfy you?"

Clavering turned his head away, for he felt greatly inclined to laugh, but
he knew the Torrance temper. Hetty had been very haughty during that
drive, but she had not appeared especially dignified when she sat blinking
about her in the snow, nor had Miss Schuyler, and he felt that they
realized it; and in feminine fashion blamed him for being there. It was
Miss Schuyler who relieved the situation.

"Hadn't you better do something for the horse? It is apparently trying to
hang itself--and I almost wish it would. It deserves to succeed."

Clavering could have done very little by himself, but in another minute
Hetty was kneeling on the horse's head, while, at more than a little risk
from the battering hoofs, he loosed some of the harness. Then, the Badger
was allowed to flounder to his feet, and Clavering proceeded to readjust
his trappings. A buckle had drawn, however, and a strap had burst.

"No," said Hetty sharply. "Not that way. Don't you see you've got to lead
the trace through. It is most unfortunate Larry isn't here."

Clavering glanced at Miss Schuyler, and both of them laughed, while Hetty
frowned.

"Well," she said, "he would have fixed the thing in half the time, and we
can't stay here for ever."

Clavering did what he could; but repairing harness in the open under
twenty or thirty degrees of frost is a difficult task for any man,
especially when he has no tools to work with and cannot remove his
mittens, and it was at least twenty minutes before he somewhat doubtfully
announced that all was ready. He handed Miss Schuyler into the sleigh, and
then passed the reins to Hetty, who stood with one foot on the step,
apparently waiting for something.

"I don't think he will run away again," he said.

The girl glanced at him sharply. "I am vexed with myself. Don't make me
vexed with you," she said.

Clavering said nothing, but took the reins and they slid slowly down into
the hollow, and, more slowly still, across the frozen creek a