At first, Blue Bonnet thoroughly enjoyed that swift rush along through the gathering dusk; they had the wind at their back, and ahead of them the pond to themselves. Then the two hours or more already spent in skating that afternoon began to tell on her, and with the sense of fast-growing fatigue came equally rapid misgivings. She glanced sideways at her companion; why wouldn’t Kitty speak! If only she would admit the foolishness of the undertaking, Blue Bonnet would give in too, but until Kitty gave in—she would not.
Kitty was thinking the same; she knew, as Blue Bonnet did not, not only the foolishness, but the risk of what they had undertaken. What had possessed her to start such a ball rolling? Once started, it went without saying that she could not be the first to throw up the game. Blue Bonnet was getting tired already, one could see that, though she was trying not to show it; and then—
But Kitty reckoned without knowledge.
The pond was growing narrower now, with sharp twists and turns that made Blue Bonnet think of the brook she and Alec had followed that August afternoon. The thought of the brook reminded her of Aunt Lucinda.
For just a moment, Blue Bonnet wavered; Aunt Lucinda had gone into town and would not be back until the nine o’clock train—Grandmother was alone, and would be worried.
Kitty saw the sudden slackening on Blue Bonnet’s part, and took comfort from it. “Ready to go back?” she asked, more than a hint of “I told you how it would be” in her voice.
Blue Bonnet wavered no longer; it was impossible to give in to Kitty—of all people; Kitty had started it, and it was her place to make the first move towards turning back.
“I am ready whenever you are,” she answered; “you have only to say the word.”
“I thought you wanted to go to the very end?”
Blue Bonnet made no answer. Kitty was the—Sarah would never be so horrid; and then the mere thought of Sarah in connection with such a foolish performance as this, made Blue Bonnet laugh.