roject, but Morris felt that it was
right, and he nerved himself to his part of the toil, harnessing his own
horse and leading him around to the door, where he left him while he
went to get Katy ready. She was not sleeping now, for the powerful
stimulant given just before leaving her had taken effect, and she seemed
a great deal better, fastening her cloak herself and tying her own
bonnet, while Morris put an extra shawl around her, and Mrs. Hull
brought the hot soapstone prepared for her feet. Then, when all was
ready, Morris carried her to the covered sleigh, wrapping robes and furs
around her so that it seemed impossible she should take cold.

The storm had now abated, and the moon shone brightly upon the cold,
frosty snow, as they sped along, Morris' bells tinkling in the clear
cutting air, and occasionally waking some light sleeper, who knew those
musical bells, and said: "That is the doctor," wondering who was sick,
and as they nestled down again in their warm bed, feeling glad that they
were not obliged to be abroad in a wintry night like this. There was no
one at the West Silverton depot except the man who always stayed there,
and he was too nearly asleep to notice whether it was one or twenty
ladies whom Morris accompanied into the sitting-room, going next to
provide for his horse at the hotel nearby.

This done he came back to Katy, staying by her until the early train
came swiftly in, pausing only for a moment, and when next it moved
forward, bearing him and Katy on the strange journey to New York.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

GETTING HOME.

Springfield was left behind just as the gray daylight came stealing
through the frost-bound windows, rousing the sleepy passengers, and
making Morris pull his wide collar a little closer about his face as if
to avoid observation. He was not afraid of daylight except as it might
disclose some old acquaintance who would perhaps wonder to see him at
that hour between Springfield and Hartford, and wonder more whose was
the head resting so confidentially upon his shoulder, for after the
change at Springfield, Katy, who could no longer keep awake, had leaned
against his arm as readily as if he had been her brother.

A secret of any kind makes its possessor suspicious, and Morris felt
anxious whenever any one glanced that way, but he would not waken Katy,
who slept upon his arm until New York was reached, when with a
frightened, startled feeling, she sat up, and pushing her