before the Wednesday spelling match began
its lively session, or her report at the end of the term would be lacking
in completeness.

And so, between "jest and earnest," did Miss Preston handle her girls,
drawing by gentleness from a sensitive nature, by firmness from a careless
one, by sarcasm (and woe to the girl who provoked it, for it was, truly,
"like a polished razor keen") from a flippant, and by one of her rare,
sweet smiles from the ambitious all that was best to be drawn.

Toinette was naturally a remarkably bright girl, and possessed qualities
of mind which only required gentle suggestions to develop their latent
powers. Refined and delicate by nature, keen of comprehension, she slipped
into her proper niche directly way was made for her, and filled it to her
own credit and the satisfaction of others. Nor did it take Miss Preston
long to discover that a delicately strung instrument had been placed in
her hands, and that it must be touched with skillful fingers if its best
notes were to be given forth.

The weeks slipped away, and winter, as though to pay up for its tardy
arrival, came in earnest, bringing in February the heavy snowstorms one
looks for much earlier in the season in this part of the globe. The girls
hailed them with wild demonstrations, for snow meant sleigh-rides, and it
is a frosty old codger who can frown and grumble at the sound of
sleigh-bells.

CHAPTER XIV

"JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS"

One morning early in February the girls looked out of their windows to
behold a wonderful new world--a white one to replace the dull gray one,
which would have made their spirits sympathetically gray, perhaps, had
they been older. But, happily, it must be a very smoky gray indeed that
can depress fifteen.

"Quick, Edith, come and look!" and then, flying across the room, Ruth
thumped upon Toinette's door, and called out: "Sleigh-bells! Sleigh-bells!
Don't you hear them?"

The snow had fallen steadily all night, piling up softly and silently the
great white mounds, covering up unsightly objects, laying the downiest of
coverlids upon the dull old world until it was hardly recognizable. Every
ledge, every branch and tiny twig held its feathery burden, or shook it
softly upon the white mass covering the ground. Hardly a breath of air
stirred, and the fir trees looked as though St. Nick had visited them in
the night to dress a tree for every little toddler in the land.

Down, down, down came