"Mind your toes," Denry muttered to himself, meaning an
injunction to the skis, whose toes were three feet long. The skis,
through the eddying snow, yelled frantically to the sleigh to give room.
The skis shot up into the road, and in swerving aside swerved into a
snow-laden hedge, and clean over it into the farmyard, where they stuck
themselves up in the air, as skis will when the person to whose feet
they are attached is lying prone. The door of the farm opened and a
woman appeared.
She saw the skis at her doorstep. She heard the sleigh-bells, but the
sleigh had already vanished into the dusk.
"Well, that was a bit of a lark, that was, Countess!" said Denry to
Nellie. "That will be something to talk about. We'd better drive home
through Corsier, and quick too! It'll be quite dark soon."
"Supposing he's dead!" Nellie breathed, aghast, reining in the horse.
"Not he!" said Denry. "I saw him beginning to sit up."
"But how will he get home?"
"It looks a very nice farmhouse," said Denry. "I should think he'd be
sorry to leave it."
VI
When Denry entered the dining-room of the Beau-Site, which had been
cleared for the ball, his costume drew attention not so much by its
splendour or ingenuity as by its peculiarity.
Pages:
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337