as she
watched the girls go out into the hall and come back blushing. How could
they give so lightly what seemed to her so sacred? A woman's lips were
for her lover.

She sat very still among the cushions. The fire roared up the chimney.
Outside the wind blew; far away in the distance a dog barked.

The barking dog was young Toby. At the heels of his master he was headed
straight for the long low house and the grateful shelter of its warmth.

Richard stood for a moment on the porch, looking in through the lighted
window. A romping game was in full progress. This time it was "Drop the
Handkerchief" and a plump and pretty girl was having a tussle with her
captor. Everybody was shouting, clapping. Everybody? On an old settle by
the fire sat a slim girl in a white gown. Peggy lay in the curve of her
arm, and she was looking down at Peggy.

Richard laughed a big laugh. He could not have told why he laughed, but
he flung the door open, and stood there radiant.

"May I come in?" he demanded of Beulah, "or will I break up your party?"

"Oh, Dr. Brooks, as if you could. We are so glad to have you."

"I had a sick call, and we are half frozen, Toby and I, and we saw the
lights----"

Now the best place for a half-frozen man is by the fire, and the best
place for an anxious and shivering dog is in a warm chimney corner, so
in a moment the young dog Toby was where he could thaw out in a luxurious
content, and Richard was on the settle beside Anne, and was saying,
"Isn't this great? Do you think I ought to stay? I'm not really invited,
you know."

"There's never any formality. Everybody just comes."

"I like your frock," he said suddenly. "You remind me of a little
porcelain figure I saw in a Fifth Avenue window not long ago."

"Tell me about it," she said with eagerness.

"About what?"

"New York and the shops. Oh, I saw them once. They were like--Heaven."

She laughed up at him as she said it, and he laughed back.

"You'd get tired of them if you lived there."

"I should never get tired. And if I had money I'd go on in and try on
everything. I saw a picture of a gown I'd like--all silver spangles with
a pointed train. Do you know I've never worn a train? I should like
one--and a big fan with feathers."

He shook his head. "Trains wouldn't suit your style. Nor big fans. You
ought to have a little fan--of sandalwood, with a purple and green tassel
and smelling sweet. Mother says that her mother carried a fan like