alone. Moreover, she knew that among her fellow townspeople there was a
great desire that the Count should not win this race, which in its
own fashion was the event of the year, whereas, if she appeared as his
companion it would be supposed that she was anxious for his success.
Lastly--and this was the chiefest sore--although in theory the
competitors had a right to ask any one to whom they took a fancy to
travel in their sledges, in practise they only sought the company of
young women with whom they were on the best of terms, and who were
already warned of their intention.

In an instant these thoughts flashed through her mind, but all she did
was to murmur something about the Heer van Goorl----

"Has already given his consent, like an unselfish gentleman," broke in
Captain Juan tendering her his hand.

Now, without absolutely making a scene, which then, as to-day, ladies
considered an ill-bred thing to do, there was no escape, since half
Leyden gathered at these "sledge choosings," and many eyes were on her
and the Count. Therefore, because she must, Lysbeth took the proferred
hand, and was led to the sledge, catching, as she passed to it through
the throng, more than one sour look from the men and more than one
exclamation of surprise, real or affected, on the lips of the ladies
of her acquaintance. These manifestations, however, put her upon her
mettle. So determining that at least she would not look sullen or
ridiculous, she began to enter into the spirit of the adventure, and
smiled graciously while the Captain Montalvo wrapped a magnificent apron
of wolf skins about her knees.

When all was ready her charioteer took the reins and settled himself