Grace noted that he was rather shaken, and felt vaguely disturbed. She
had seen him following the foxhounds among the crags, for they hunt on
foot in the rugged dales, and knew his steadiness and pluck. He had not
been afraid for himself, and she did not want him to be afraid for her.

"After all," she said, "the hill seemed to run down evenly when we stood
at the top. If the little slant towards the crag deceived you, it
deceived me."

"I know more about tobogganing and oughtn't to have been deceived. It
hurts to feel I didn't take proper care of you."

"It really doesn't matter," Grace replied with a smile, and Thorn gave
her a steady look.

"Oh, but it does matter! You ought to see that!"

"I don't see it," Grace insisted quietly, although her heart beat. "You
were not accountable, and we got down quite safe. Let's talk about
something else."

Thorn's eyes rested on her for another moment, and then he made a sign of
acquiescence and they went back up the hill. At the top he marked a new
line for the next day's sport, and then as the sun was getting low the
party started home by the old stone-boat road. Near the bottom they
overtook the Askews, and one or two others walking at their horses' heads
as they cautiously descended a steep pitch. Grace noted that although
they were not bringing much peat there was a risk of the sledges running
down upon the teams.