It was a sharp, keen winter's day, but the roads had been worn tolerably smooth with the sleighing, and it was by far too cold for alternate freezing and thawing; but the sky was of a clear, steely blue, and the sun as brilliant as a midwinter's sun could be.
"If you did not mind the cold. What is your opinion, Dora?"—turning to Mrs. Alston.
"I suppose you could stand it if you were wrapped up good and warm."
"Would you take the buggy?" asked Aunt Ruth.
"O yes!" answered Kathie, eagerly; "I cannot bear to be shut up in a close prison, as if I was being taken off somewhere for my misdeeds."
"It will be a good deal colder."
Uncle Robert laughed as he met Kathie's mirthful eyes.
"I shall not freeze, auntie. I like the sensation of this strong, fresh wind blowing square into my face; it takes the cobwebs out of my brains."
So the ponies had orders, and pricked up their ears as if they were rather interested in trying the bracing wind as well.