"An ox!" I retorted." This is built for speed. I am going to ask Jean to go coasting." "Aha!" said Jack, significantly. "I wish you all possible--speed." Jean showed no reluctance about going. She drew on a woolen sweater and a short, cloth winter coat, with a collar of some fluffy kind of fur which had originally grown on a cat. She had a little fur cap of the same material, which she pulled down snugly on her head, and we were off. We followed the crest of the gully for some distance in the direction of Sneezit's farm, ostensibly in search of a good coasting spot, but actually much engaged with our thoughts and the real purpose of our outing. That Jean understood it perfectly I was convinced, and under such circumstances the fact that she had so readily accepted my invitation was at least a hopeful omen. Walking on the untracked snow in midwinter is an uncertain business, and the prairie people rarely make use of snowshoes. For the most part there was a frozen crust that bore our weight, but this crust has an unfortunate habit of giving way at unexpected moments, particularly when one has just taken a big stride forward. There is an effect very much like coming upon the head of the stairs in the darkness when you think you are still safely walking along the hall. It precipitates one forward with great suddenness, but fortunately snow is a good thing to fall in. We scrambled to our feet, laughing and in high spirits. It was a wonderful thing to laugh again, and mean it. At last we found a place where the snow had curved in a great white plume over the bank of the gully. For fifty or sixty feet it dropped away in an absolutely smooth descent; then came a sudden pitch, as though a great ladle had scooped out the drift; then a succession of little billows whipped up by the cross currents at the foot of the hill. "How's that?" I demanded. "It looks good," said Jean. "Let me see if it is firm." With that she ran out upon the drift, her dainty feet tripping down it like a bird. But the descent was steeper than she thought; her momentum over-balanced her, and in an instant I saw her careering wildly down the slope, her arms outstretched, her hair flying loose from under the rim of her cap. Near the foot she disappeared entirely. Perhaps I should have rushed after her, but I didn't. I sat down leisurely at the top of the hill and waited for her to reappear. Presently a mittened hand came up over the crest which hid her from view; then something round and furry, like a sleeping kitten; then a forehead, two eyes, and a glimpse of cheeks. "Aren't you coming down--to help me?" she called. Now I had meant to stand on my rights; to tell Jean that she had gone down the hill on her own accord, and might come back in the same way; perhaps to poke some quiet mirth at her efforts to scramble up the slippery drift. When a man contemplates matrimony he may as well settle at once who's who, and why. Now was my time to be firm.