blue silk in frantic haste and bundled it
beneath her shawl. Like a refuge to a pursued hare, came the thought
of Elsie Cameron. She would run to Elsie. A glance at the window
showed Susan still in violent dispute with the orphans. There was yet
time to escape. Miss Arabella darted for the kitchen, frightening
Polly into incoherent squalls, tore open the door, and dashed out into
the storm. She splashed through the back garden, scrambled recklessly
over the fence, and went staggering along the soft, yielding field
behind the line of houses. The rain beat in her face, the wind flung
her shawl over her head and twisted her thin skirt about her, and she
knew, if Granny Long's telescope spied her, as it was almost sure to
do, the whole village would be sure she had gone mad. But she was
reckless. The chance of happiness had come with dazzling
unexpectedness, and she was like a drowning man, who forgets all else
but, the life-line thrown to him. On she ran, like a little brown leaf
driven by the wind and rain, her head bent, her shawl clutched closely
around her precious bundle.

She was plunging down among the dripping cedars of Treasure Valley,
when she noticed, with dismay, that the stream was flowing high above
the stepping-stones. It came roaring out from under the bridge, swift
and swollen, with clumps of ice and snow whirling down its oily
surface. Not a moment did she hesitate, but turned and scrambled up
the bank again. She would likely be seen as soon as she crossed the
bridge, but she must get to Elsie, no matter what the consequences. As
she reached the bridge the doctor's buggy came splashing down the
street behind her. He smiled, and pulled up beside the little
wind-blown figure.

"May I drive you to your destination, Miss Winters?" he asked.

Miss Arabella, without a word, scrambled in. The sudden and unexpected
relief almost took away her breath. If she had eluded the telescope so
far, she was comparatively safe. She gave her rescuer a grateful
glance as he tucked the rubber lap-robe about her. Then a pang of
remorse seized her in the midst of her joy. She had intended the blue
silk for Elsie's wedding day, and his wedding day, too, of course. How
selfish she was to have forgotten! She glanced up at him timidly,
feeling as if she were defrauding him of his rights. She remembered,
regretfully, that he had looked overworked and very much older during
the past few months. Her anxiety