"We didn't look at all. It was too cold--" Laine put another log on
the fire--"the roads were frozen, and to keep the horses from
slipping was all we could attend to."

"Couldn't you talk?"

"Not a great deal. Miss Keith insists upon keeping her horse ahead
of mine. It is snowing! Did you know it?"

Dorothea jumped up and ran to the window. "It wasn't just now when I
looked out. Yes, it is." She peered through the pane, pressing her
nose close to it. "It hasn't snowed since that first week you came,
Cousin Claudia, and that's nearly a month ago. I hope it will snow
fifty feet deep, so the cars can't run, and that the river will
freeze so the boats can't go down it, and then you will have to stay;
and so would we, and we could all be together Christmas. Don't you
wish so, too, Uncle Winthrop?" She came back and leaned against her
uncle's chair. "Did you know Cousin Claudia was going home next
week?"

"She told me so this afternoon."

"I certainly am." Elbows on her knees and chin in her hands, Claudia
looked straight into the fire. "If your wish comes true, Dorothea,
I'll get an air-ship. I expected to stay three weeks, and will have
stayed five before I get back. I ought to be home this minute."

"I don't think five weeks is long. I think it's very short."
Dorothea took a seat on a stool at her uncle's feet, and looked up in
his face. "Father says he thinks it's downright mean in her to go
before we do. Don't you think she might stay, Uncle Winthrop?"

"I do." Laine changed his position and looked away from Dorothea's
eyes. "Is there nothing we can do to make her change her mind?"

"Is there?" Dorothea fumed to Claudia. "I think you ought to, for
mother says Uncle Winthrop is just beginning to act like a Christian
in coming to see her regularly, and when you go he might stop acting
that way. Are you going to stay to dinner to-night?" She took
Laine's hand and intertwined her fingers in his. "Please do."

"In these clothes?"

Dorothea hesitated. "Mother wouldn't like them, but--" She jumped
up and clapped her hands in excited delight. "Mother's got a
headache and isn't coming down to-night, and if you will stay I think
she will let me take dinner with you. I hate foolishness about
clothes, and these are the becomingest ones you wear; and, besides,
at the Hunt Club you eat in them, and why can't you do it here just
once? Wouldn't it be magnificent if I could sit up?" Doroth