The sex-partisanship, which is such a droll fact in women when there is
any question of their general opposition to men, possessed them all, and
they stood as, one girl for the reality of their triumph. This did not
prevent them from declaring that the men had behaved with outrageous
unfairness, and that the only one who fought with absolute sincerity from
first to last was Mr. Verrian.

Neither their unity of conviction concerning the general fact nor the
surprising deduction from it in Verrian's case operated to make them
refuse the help of their captives in getting home. When they had bound
up their tumbled hair, in some cases, and repaired the ravages of war
among their feathers and furs and draperies, in other cases, they
accepted the hands of the late enemy at difficult points of the path.
But they ran forward when they neared the house, and they were prompt to
scream upon Mrs. Westangle that there never had been such a success or
such fun, and that they were almost dead, and soon as they had something
to eat they were going to bed and never going to get up again.

In the details which they were able to give at luncheon, they did
justice to Verrian's noble part in the whole affair, which had saved the
day, not only in keeping them up to the work when they had got thinking
it couldn't be carried through, but in giving the combat a validity which
it would not have had without him. They had to thank him, next to Mrs.
Westangle herself, whom they praised beyond any articulate expression,
for thinking up such a delightful thing. They wondered how she could
ever have thought of it--such a simple thing too; and they were sure that
when people heard of it they would all be wanting to have snow battles.

Mrs. Westangle took her praises as passively, if not as modestly, as
Verrian received his. She made no show of disclaiming them, but she had