"Isn't it strange?" she whispered. "I never saw a sleigh before without seats in it. Won't we fall out?"
"No, indeed!" answered King, heartily; "that's just what we won't do.
Unless when we strike a bump."
Just then they did "strike a bump," and Delight was almost frightened at the jounce she received.
"Oh," she exclaimed, "it—it takes your breath away,—but—but I think it's very nice."
"Plucky girl!" said King, and as that was the highest compliment he could pay a girl, Marjorie felt a thrill of pleasure that King was going to like Delight after all.
"I think you'd like it better without that awful thick veil over your face," King went on. "You can't see the snow through that, can you?"
"No, I can't," said Delight, and she pulled off her veil, leaving her roseleaf face, with its crown of golden curls exposed to view. A hood of white swansdown was tied under her chin with white ribbons, and her smile, though shy, was very sweet.
"That's better!" cried King, approvingly. "Now we can see what you say.
Whoo-oo!!"
King blew a sudden blast on a tin horn which he drew from his pocket, and as all the boys in the sleigh, and some of the girls did the same, the noise was deafening.
Delight looked startled, and no wonder, but Marjorie reassured her by saying: