They had taken their place in the line of sleighs and were ambling along close to the rope. The sleighs in the line were so close that the stout horse had his nose almost in the neck of a nervous man just ahead, who kept looking back, while Fox could feel the breath of the horse behind. He looked at Mrs. Ladue. "Does it trouble you that this horse is so near?" he asked. "Do you mind?" "Nothing troubles me," she said, smiling up at him. "I don't mind anything. I am having a lovely time." And Fox returned to his observation of the multitude, collectively and individually. They interested him more than the horses, which could not truthfully be said of Henrietta. Almost every person there looked happy and bent upon having a good time, although almost everybody was cold, which was not surprising, and there was much stamping of feet and thrashing of arms, and the ice boomed and cracked merrily, once in a while, and the noise echoed over the harbor. Suddenly Fox leaned out of the sleigh and said something to a man, who looked surprised and began rubbing his ears gently. Then he called his thanks. "That man's ears were getting frost-bitten," Fox remarked in reply to a questioning glance from Mrs. Ladue. "Now here we are at the end of the line and I haven't seen a single race. I say, Sally, can't we get where we can see that Sawny horse race? I should like to see him and Mr. Gilfeather." "He's a sight. So is Mr. Gilfeather." And Sally laughed suddenly. "If we should hang around here until we hear the noise coming and then get in the line again, we should be somewhere near halfway down when he comes down again. Can we, Cousin Patty?" Patty inclined her head graciously. "Why, certainly, Sally. Anything Doctor Sanderson likes." "Doctor Sanderson is greatly obliged," said Fox. The nervous man appeared much relieved to find that they were to hang around and that he was not condemned to having the nose of their horse in his neck all the afternoon. They drove off to join a group of sleighs that were hanging around for a like purpose. A light cutter, drawn by a spirited young horse, drew up beside them. "Good afternoon," said a pleasant voice. "Won't some one of you come with me? You should have mercy on your horse, you know." "Oh, Dick!" Sally cried. There was mischief in her eyes. "It is good of you. Will you take Edward?" Even Edward, the stolid coachman, grinned at that. "With pleasure," said Dick, not at all disconcerted, "if Miss Patty can spare him." "Oh," cried Miss Patty, "not Edward." "Well," continued Sally, "Miss Sanderson, then." "With pleasure," said Dick again. There was no need to ask Henrietta. The introductions were gone hastily through, and Henrietta changed with some alacrity. "You are not racing, Dick?" Sally asked, as he tucked the robe around Henrietta. "Oh, no," Dick replied solemnly, looking up. "How can you ask, Sally? You know that I should not dare to, with this horse. He is too young."