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wouldn’t.”
    â€œBecause I saw you wanted to be with Nancy,” said Hilda sombrely. “You never left her alone for a moment. You don’t know how silly you looked—both of you,” she added as an afterthought.
    â€œYou didn’t see us,” Eustace argued feebly, “you were always looking the other way.”
    â€œI did try not to see you,” said Hilda, remorselessly striding up the slope, her superior stature, unimpaired freshness and natural vigour giving her a great advantage over Eustace. “But when I couldn’t see you I could hear you. I was ashamed of you and so was Aunt Sarah and so was Daddy.”
    â€œDaddy said he was proud of me.”
    â€œOh, he said that to please Major Steptoe.”
    Eustace felt profoundly depressed and, as the tide of reaction rolled over him, a little sick. But the excitement of the start, of getting into line, of holding the toboggan with Hilda on it and then jumping into his place at the word “Go!” banished his malaise. Off shot the two toboggans. When they reached the dreaded rise they were abreast of each other; then Gerald’s exaggerated technique (learned, as he had explained, from a tobogganist of world-wide renown) involved him, as so often, in disaster. The Cherringtons won, though their finish was not spectacular: the grass, now growing damp, held them back. Hilda and Eustace stumbled to their feet. They looked at each other without speaking but there was a gleam in Hilda’s eye. Major Steptoe joined the group.
    â€œA decisive victory for your side, I’m afraid, Cherrington,” he said. “Now what about packing up?”
    Gerald was heard muttering something about “our revenge.”
    â€œWhat does he say?” asked Hilda.
    â€œHe wants to challenge us again,” said Eustace importantly.
    â€œNow, children, it’s too late for any more. Look, the moon’s rising!” But Mrs. Steptoe’s clear, decided tones had no effect whatever on Hilda.
    â€œThe sun’s still there,” she said. “Come on, Eustace. I want to beat them again.”
    â€œBut we mightn’t win another time,” said Eustace cautiously.
    However, Hilda had her way. The second race resulted in a win for the Steptoes. Again the parents and Miss Cherrington decreed the revels should end. But Hilda would not hear of it. They must have a third race to decide who were the real winners.
    â€œI feel a little sick, Hilda,” whispered Eustace as he toiled after her up the slope.
    â€œWhat nonsense! You didn’t feel sick with Nancy.”
    â€œI do now.”
    â€œYou don’t—you only think you do.”
    â€œPerhaps you know best.”
    The third race was a near thing because both parties finished without mishap. The Cherringtons, however, were definitely in front. But apart from Major Steptoe, the judge, there was no one to hail their triumph; the others had gone on towards the carriages which could be seen a couple of hundred yards away drawn up on the turf, facing each other.
    â€œWe’ve won! We’ve won!” cried Hilda, her voice echoing down the valley. Her eyes were sparkling, her face, glowing against her dark hair, was amazingly animated. Eustace, who had seldom seen her like this, was excited and afraid. “We’ve won, we’ve won!” she repeated.
    â€œAll right then, come along!” Aunt Sarah’s voice, with a note of impatience in it, reached them thinly across the grassy expanse.
    â€œWait a minute!” screamed Hilda, “I’m going to make Eustace take me again.”
    Major Steptoe’s deep, conversational tones sounded strangely composed after her wild accents.
    â€œWhat about giving up now? The horses’ll be getting restive.”
    â€œI don’t care about the horses. Come on, Eustace.”
    For the first time she took the toboggan herself, and began running up the hill. It was so wet now