get the words out before you slipped down his throat."

Leisurely, Patty got up, shook her rumpled skirts, and walked to the
window.

"It does look like snow," she observed, critically eyeing the landscape.

"Look like snow!" cried Elise; "it's a blizzard, that's what it is!"

"Well, doesn't a blizzard look like snow? It does to me. And I don't
know anything nicer than a whole long day in the house. I'm having the
time of my life."

Patty threw herself into a big armchair, in front of the blazing log
fire, and contentedly held out her slippered feet to the glowing warmth.

"But we were going to play tennis, and----"

"My dear child, tennis will keep. And what's the use of growling? As
you remark, it is a young blizzard, and we can't possibly stop it, so
let's make the best of it, and have what is known in the kiddy-books as
Indoor Pastimes."

"Patty, you're enough to exasperate a saint! You and your eternal
cheerfulness!"

"All right, anything to please," and Patty assumed a doleful
expression, drew down the corners of her mouth, and wrung her hands in
mock despair.

"Isn't it mean," she wailed; "here's this horrid, hateful old
snowstorm, and we can't go outdoors or anything! I'm mad as a hornet,
as a hatter, as a wet hen, as a March hare, as a--as hops, as--what
else gets awful mad, Elise?"

"I shall, if you continue to act like an idiot!"

"My good heavens!" and Patty rolled her eyes toward the ceiling,
"there's no pleasing her--positively _no_ pleasing her! What to do!
What to do!"

But Elise's face had cleared up, and as she looked from the window, she
smiled gaily.

"He's coming!" she cried, "Sam's coming!"

Patty hastily adjusted her dignity and sat up with a formal air to
greet the visitor, while Elise scrabbled up the sofa cushions and
newspapers.

The girls were down at Lakewood. Patty was the guest of Elise, whose
family had taken a cottage there for the season. That is, it was
called a cottage, but was in reality an immense house, most comfortably
and delightfully appointed. Patty was still supposed to be
convalescing from her recent illness, but, as a matter of fact, she had
regained her health and strength, and, though never robust, was
entirely well.

The invitation to Pine Laurel, as the house was called, was a welcome
one, and the elder Fairfields were glad to have Patty go there for a
fortnight or so. She had arrived but the day before, and now the
unexpected snowstor