"Only half way. This one goes through."
"I'll go half way on the other, then," said Ginevra.
"This is the best team, and goes on ahead," was the reply.
"You'll be left behind," cried Mrs. Thoresby. "Don't think of it, Ginevra!"
"Can't that boy sit back, on the roof?" asked the young lady.
"That boy" quite ignored the allusion; but presently, as Ginevra moved toward the coach-window to speak with her mother, he leaned down to Leslie Goldthwaite. "I'll make room for you," he said.
But Leslie had decided. She could not, with effrontery of selfishness, take the last possible place,—a place already asked for by another. She thanked Dakie Thayne, and, with just one little secret sigh, got into the interior, placing herself by the farther door.
At that moment she missed something. "I've left my brown veil in your room, Mrs. Linceford,"—and she was about to alight again to go for it.
"I'll fetch it," cried Dakie Thayne from overhead, and, as he spoke, came down on her side by the wheel, and, springing around to the house entrance, disappeared up the stairs.
"Ginevra!" Then there came a laugh and a shout and some crinoline against the forward open corner of the coach, and Ginevra Thoresby was by the driver's side. A little ashamed, in spite of herself, though it was done under cover of a joke; but "All's fair among the mountains," somebody said, and "Possession's nine points," said another, and the laugh was with her, seemingly.