The sudden shock, the sting of the metal, and the blood that trickled down his face confused him. He threw both hands to his head, staggered, and fell backward. Vivienne stood looking at him, and as he groped blindly for his pocket, skated to him and dropped a handkerchief between his fingers.
With a low cry of rage like that of a wounded beast, he sprang to his feet, stretched out his hands, felt himself pulled from behind, and again fell to the ice.
He was a sorry spectacle as he lay raving and swearing there. “You better go, Miss Debbiline,” said Joe, who in a pair of long racing skates had appeared just as he was needed. “I takeum care him.”
Vivienne turned and went slowly up the Arm. “Where is my strap?” asked Judy when she rejoined her. “I want you to drag me about a little more, if you are not tired.”
“I threw it away,” said Vivienne. “Here is my necktie,” and she drew a voluminous tie from the bosom of her short skating jacket.
“Why, it is dripping wet,” exclaimed Judy.
“I am very warm,” said Vivienne with a faint smile. “Give it to me, Judy.”
“But, Vivienne, it looks as if you had been in the water.”
“I assure you I have not. Give me the tie. Now take my hand.”
At ten o’clock, when servants were running to and fro from the cottage to the ice, and the skating party was refreshing itself with various meats and drinks, an acquaintance of Mrs. Colonibel suddenly lifted up her voice: