Some of the men
doubted that--all thought it a big risk. But I had to take it, and
now--Ah, come on, Miss Charlotte! Let's fly!"
Away they went, faster and faster--long, swinging strokes in perfect
unison; two accomplished skaters with one object in view; working off
healthy young spirits at a tension. They did not talk; they saved their
breath; they went like the wind itself.
At the farthest extremity of the smooth ice, which ended at a little
frost-bound waterfall, they came to a stop. Churchill looked down at a
face like a rose, black eyes that were all alight, and lips that smiled
with the fresh happiness of the fine sport.
"I've skated at Copenhagen and at St. Petersburg," he said gaily, "to
say nothing of Fresh Pond and Lake Superior and other such home grounds.
But it's safe to say I never enjoyed a mile of them like that last one.
You--you were really glad, weren't you, that it went so well with me
to-day?"
"How could I help it, Doctor Churchill?" she answered, earnestly. Ever
since coming out she had been remembering the little revelation his
housekeeper had made of his life, and it had touched her deeply to know
why he had come to settle in the suburban town instead of in the much
more promising city field--a question which had occurred to her many
times since she had known him.
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