As they sped along he bent over Sylvia fiercely and said in a low, angry tone, “You don’t like that bounder, do you?  You don’t!”

Sylvia was astonished at the heat of his suspicion.  She had known that Jerry was not notably acute, but it had seemed to her that her dislike for his friend must be more than apparent to any one.  They had reached the edge of the ice now, and Sylvia’s hands were still in Jerry’s, although they were not skating, but stood facing each other.  A bush of osier, frozen into the ice, lifted its red twigs near them.  Sylvia looked down at it, hesitating how to express her utter denial of any liking for the hilarious young man.  Jerry misunderstood her pause and cried out:  “Good God!  Sylvia!  Don’t say you do.”

Sylvia’s heart gave a frightened leap.  “Oh no—­no—­not a bit!” she said hastily, looking longingly across the pond at the group around the fire.  Jerry caught his breath with a gasp and gripped her hands hard.  “It makes me crazy to see you look at another fellow,” he said.  He forced her eyes to meet his.  “Sylvia—­you know—­you know what I mean.”

Yes, Sylvia knew what he meant.  Her very white face showed that.  The young man went on, pressing, masterful, confident, towering over her:  “It’s idiotic to speak of it now, out here—­with all these people around—­but it just got me to see you with that—­I wasn’t sure how I felt about you till I saw how I felt when you seemed so friendly with him, when you got off the car together.  Then I knew.  It made me crazy—­I wanted you!”

Sylvia had not been able once to look away from him since he began to speak.  Her mouth was a little open in her white face, her eyes fixed with a painful intensity on his.  He moistened his lips with his tongue.  “Sylvia—­it’s all right—­isn’t it?”

With no change of expression in her strained face, Sylvia nodded.  As suddenly and apparently as automatically she took a backward step.

The young man made a great stride towards her—­there was a sound of quick strokes on the ice and—­“BOO!” shouted the hilarious young man, bursting between them at railroad speed.  He executed a marvelous pirouette and returned instantly, calling out, “Less spooning in the corners if you please—­or if it’s got to be, let me in!” He was followed closely by a string of young men and girls, playing snap-the-whip.  They “snapped” just as they reached Jerry.  The end girl flew off and bumped, screaming with joy, into Jerry’s arms.  He looked furiously over her head towards Sylvia, but she had been enveloped in a ring and was being conveyed away to the accompaniment of the usual squeals and shouts.  The Colonel had come down to take them all back, she was informed, and was waiting for them with the sleigh.

CHAPTER XIX

AS A BIRD OUT OF A SNARE