ous about this. She was beginning to feel bravely about the boy, and
no longer counted the minutes till she could hear the door-bell ring.
When he came he loitered in the entry below,--or she thought he did. He
was long coming up stairs. And when he came in she saw that he was
excited by something,--was really even then panting for breath.

"I am here at last," he said. "Did you think I should fail you?"

Why, no,--poor innocent Mary had not thought any such thing. She had
known he would come,--and baby was so well that she had not minded his
delay.

Morton looked up at the close drawn shades, which shut out the light,
and said, "You did not think of the storm?"

"Storm? no!" said poor Mary. She had noticed, when Robert went to the
door at seven and she closed it after him, that some snow was falling.
But she had not thought of it again. She had kissed him, told him to
keep up good heart, and had come back to her baby.

Then the doctor told her that the storm which had begun before daybreak
had been gathering more and more severely; that the drifts were already
heavier than he remembered them in all his Boston life; that after half
an hour's trial in his sleigh he had been glad to get back to the stable
with his horse; and that all he had done since he had done on foot, with
difficulty she could not conceive of. He had been so long down stairs
while he brushed the snow off, that he might be fit to come near the
child.

"And really, Mrs. Walter, we are doing so well here," he said
cheerfully, "that I will not try to come round this afternoon, unless
you see a change. If you do, your husband must come up for me, you know.
But you will not need me, I am sure."

Mary felt quite brave to think that they should not need him really for
twenty-four hours, and said so; and added, with the first smile he had
seen for a fortnight: "I do not know anybody to whom it is of less
account than to me, whether the streets are blocked or open. Only I am
sorry for you."

Poor Mary, how often she thought of that speech, before Christmas day
went by! But she did not think of it all through St. Victoria's day. Her
husband did not come home to dinner. She did not expect him. The
children came from school at two, rejoicing in the long morning session
and the half holiday of the afternoon which had been earned by it. They
had some story of their frolic in the snow, and after dinner went
quietly away to their little play-room in the attic