ire inn where she had been delayed for a couple of hours in the
fall. In the morning, true to her impulsive nature, she besieged her
father until he gave his permission for her to take her maid and a quiet
elderly cousin of his and go away for a complete rest before the society
season began.

It was a strange whim for his butterfly daughter to take but the busy
man saw no harm in it, and was fully convinced that it was merely her
way of punishing some over ardent follower for a few days; and feeling
sure she would soon return, he let her go. She had had her way all her
life, and why should he cross her in so simple a matter as a few days'
rest in a country inn with a respectable chaperone?

The letter to the landlord was outtravelled by a telegram whose answer
sent Hazel on her way the next morning, thankful that she had been able
to get away during a temporary absence of Milton Hamar, and that her
father had promised not to let any of her friends know of her
whereabouts. His eye had twinkled as he made the promise. He was quite
sure which of her many admirers was being punished, but he did not tell
her so. He intended to be most judicious with all her young men friends.
He so confided his intentions to Milton Hamar that evening, having no
thought that Hazel would mind their old friend's knowing.

Two days later Hazel, after establishing her little party comfortably in
the best rooms the New Hampshire inn afforded, putting a large box of
new novels at their disposal, and another of sweets, and sending orders
for new magazines to be forwarded, went over to call on the sweet old
lady towards whom her heart had been turning eagerly, with a longing
that would not be put away, ever since that first accidental, or
providential, meeting.

When she came back, through the first early snow-storm, with her cheeks
like winter roses and her furry hat all feathered with great white
flakes, she found Milton Hamar seated in front of the open fire in the
office making the air heavy with his best tobacco, and frowning
impatiently through the small-paned windows.

The bright look faded instantly from her face and the peace which she
had almost caught from the woman across the way. Her eyes flashed
indignantly, and her whole small frame stiffened for the combat that she
knew must come now. There was no mistaking her look. Milton Hamar knew
at once that he was not welcome. She stood for an instant with the door
wide open, blowing a gre