“Hold fast, Miss Schuyler, and remember that if anything does happen, the right-hand side is the one to get out from,” he said.
“Now,” said Hetty, “I’m not going to forgive you that. You sit quite still, and we’ll show him something, Flo.”
She touched the horses with the lash, and Badger flung up his head; another moment and he and the other beast had broken into a gallop. Hetty threw herself backwards with both hands on the reins, but no cry escaped her, and Clavering, who had a suspicion that he could do no more than she was doing now, even if he could get over the back of the seat in time, which was out of the question, set his lips as he watched the bank of snow the trail twisted round rush towards them. The sleigh bounced beneath him in another second or two, there was a stifled scream from Flora Schuyler, and leaning over he tore the robe about the girls from its fastenings. Then, there was a bewildering jolting and a crash, and he was flung out head foremost into dusty snow.
When he scrambled to his feet again Hetty was sitting in the snow close by him, and Flora Schuyler creeping out of a wreath of it on her hands and knees. The sleigh lay on one side, not far away, with the Badger rolling and kicking amidst a tangle of harness, though the other horse was still upon its feet.
Clavering was pleased to find all his limbs intact, and almost as gratified to see only indignant astonishment in Hetty’s face. She rose before he could help her and in another moment or two Flora Schuyler also stood upright, clinging to his arm.
“No,” she said, with a little gasp, “I don’t think I’m killed, though I felt quite sure of it at first. Now I only feel as though I’d been through an earthquake.”
Hetty turned and looked at Clavering, 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.