ere,
reading Dr. Holmes' last article."

"The snow must be quite deep."

"It is. I found my ride from the north village this afternoon bleak
enough. You know how the wind sweeps across the road near the Pond
schoolhouse. I believe there is to be a Christmas-eve celebration in the
Town Hall this evening, is there not?"

"No; it has been postponed till to-morrow evening."

"That will be better. The weather and walking will both be better. Shall
we go, Mary?"

"If you wish it," she said, hesitatingly.

Her husband understood her hesitation. Christmas day was a sad
anniversary for them. Four years before, their only son, Walter, a boy
of eight, had died just as the Christmas church bells were ringing out a
summons to church. Since then the house had been a silent one, the quiet
unbroken by childish noise and merriment. Much as the doctor and his
wife were to each other, both felt the void which Walter's death had
created, and especially as the anniversary came around which called to
mind their great loss.

"I think we had better go," said the doctor; "though God has bereft us
of our own child, it will be pleasant for us to watch the happy faces of
others."

"Perhaps you are right, Joseph."

Half an hour passed. The doctor continued reading the Atlantic, while
his wife, occupied with thoughts which the conversation had called up,
kept on with her work.

Just then the bell was heard to ring.

"I hope it is not for you, Joseph," said his wife, apprehensively.

"I am afraid it is," said the doctor, with a look of resignation.

"I thought it would be too good luck for me to have the whole evening to
myself."

"I wish you were not a doctor," said Mrs. Drayton.

"It is rather too late to change my profession, my dear," said her
husband, good-humoredly. "I shall be fifty next birthday. To be sure,
Ellen Jones tells me that in her class at the Normal School there is a
maiden lady of sixty-two, who has just begun to prepare herself for the
profession of a teacher. I am not quite so old as that."

Here the servant opened the door, ushering in a farm laborer.

"Good-evening, Abner," said the doctor, recognizing him, as, indeed, he
knew every face within half a dozen miles. "Anything amiss at home?"

"Mrs. Felton is took with spasms," said Abner. "Can you come right
over?"

"What have you done for her?"

"Put her feet in warm water, and put her to bed. Can you come right
over?"

"Yes," said the doctor, risin