d a good weather prophet for the next day was warmer and
cloudy, and when lessons for the day were over at half-past two, a fine
drizzle had begun to fall.

"Just the same I'm going," persisted Betty, pulling on her rubbers and
struggling into a heavier sweater. "The snow hasn't all melted, and
there will be enough for a good coast. I think you're a lazy bunch to
want to stay cooped up in here and knit. A little fresh air would be good
for you, Norma."

"I've a cold," said Norma, in explanation of her red eyes. "Anyway, I
don't feel like playing around outdoors. And Alice has gone to bed with a
headache and I'd rather not leave her."

Some had studying to do and others refused to be moved from their fancy
work, so Betty and her sled finally set off alone. She knew, of course,
that Norma's red eyes were the result of crying, as was Alice's headache.
They had definitely decided the night before that they would not return
to Shadyside after the Christmas holidays.

"I think this is a funny world," scolded Betty to herself, as she reached
her favorite hill and put her sled in position. "Here are Norma and
Alice, the kind of girls Mrs. Eustice is proud to have represent the
school, and they can't afford to take a full course and graduate. And Ada
Nansen, who is everything the ideals of Shadyside try to combat, has
oceans of money and every prospect of staying. She'll probably take a
P.G. course!"

A wild ride through the slushy snow made Betty feel better, and when, as
she dragged the sled up again, Bob's whistle sounded, the last trace of
her resentment vanished.

"Something told me you'd be out hunting a sore throat to-day," declared
Bob, in mock-disapproval. "The fellows all said there wouldn't be enough
snow to hold up a sparrow."

"Silly things!" dimpled Betty. "There's plenty of snow for a good coast.
Take me, Bob?"

"Well, if you'll come on over where there's a decent hill," Bob
assented. "With only two on the bob, we want to get some grade. Here,
I'll stick your sled in between these two trees and you can get it when
we come back."

Together they pulled the heavy bobsled up the hill and crossed over the
hollow, taking a wagon trail that led up over another hill.

"It's a long walk," admitted Bob, panting. "But wait till you see the
ride we're going to get."

They reached the top of Pudding Hill presently, and Betty looked down
over a rolling expanse of white country covered closely by a lowering
gray s