in the wind. Over in the east, above
the line of timber skirting Cedar Creek, the vast, slightly gibbous moon
was rising, sending along the crusted snow a broad path of light. Other
sleighs could be heard through the still, cold air. Far away a party of
four or five were singing a chorus as they spun along the road.

Something sweet and unnamable was stirring in the young fellow's brain
as he spun along in the marvelously still and radiant night. He wished
Eileen were with him. The vast and cloudless blue vault of sky
glittered with stars, which even the radiant moon could not dim. Not a
breath of air was stirring save that made by the swift, strong stride of
the horse.

It was a night for youth and love and bells, and Milton felt this
consciously, and felt it by singing:

"Stars of the summer night,
Hide in your azure deeps,--
She sleeps--my lady sleeps."

He was on his way to get Bettie Moss, one of his old sweethearts, who
had become more deeply concerned with the life of Edwin Blackler. He had
taken the matter with sunny philosophy even before meeting Eileen
Deering at the Seminary, and he was now on his way to bring about peace
between Ed and Bettie, who had lately quarreled. Incidentally he
expected to enjoy the sleigh-ride.

"Stiddy, boy! Ho, boy! _Stiddy_, old fellow," he called soothingly to
Marc, as he neared the gate and whirled up to the door. A girl came to
the door as he drove up, her head wrapped in a white hood, a shawl on
her arms. She had been waiting for him.

"Hello, Milt. That you?"

"It's me. Been waiting?"

"I should say I had. Begun t' think you'd gone back on me. Everybody
else's gone."

"Well! Hop in here before you freeze; we'll not be the last ones there.
Yes, bring the shawl; you'll need it t' keep the snow off your face,"
he called, authoritatively.

"'Tain't snowin', is it?" she asked as she shut the door and came to the
sleigh's side.

"Clear as a bell," he said as he helped her in.

"Then where'll the snow come from?"

"From Marc's heels."

"Goodness sakes! you don't expect me t' ride after _that_ wild-headed
critter, do you?"

His answer was a chirp which sent Marc half-way to the gate before
Bettie could catch her breath. The reins stiffened in his hands. Bettie
clung to him, shrieking at every turn in the road. "Milton Jennings, if
you tip us over, I'll"----

Milton laughed, drew the colt down to a steady, swift stride, and Bettie
put her hands back under