ing down the graceful lines of
elm twigs on path and snowdrift. The snow lawns in front of the village
houses were pure and bright; little children played in them with tiny
sledge and snow spade, often under the watchful eye of a mother who sat
sewing behind the window pane. Now and then sleighs passed on the
central road with a cheerful jingle of bells.

When Eliza, with the children, came to the centre of the village, it
became necessary to cross the street. She was bound for the largest
shop, that stood under part of the great hotel, and just here, opposite
the hotel, quite a number of sleighs were passing. Eliza picked up the
little one in her arms, and, taking the other child by the hand, essayed
to cross. But one reckons without one's host in counting surely on the
actions of children. Sturdy five-year-old baulked like a little horse,
and would not come. Eliza coaxed in vain. A long line of draught-horses,
dragging blue box-sleighs, came slowly up the road, each jingling a
heavy belt of bells. Five-year-old was frightened and would not come.
Eliza, without irritation, but at the same time without hesitation, took
it by the waist under her left arm and started again. She got half
across before the child seemed thoroughly to realise what was occurring,
and then, with head and arms in front and little gaitered legs behind,
it began to struggle so violently that the young woman, strong and
composed as she was, was brought for a minute to a standstill.

Two men were watching her from the smoking-room of the hotel; the one an
elderly man, the owner of the house, had his attention arrested by the
calm force of character Eliza was displaying; the other, the young
American dentist, saw in the incident an excuse for interference, and he
rushed out now to the rescue, and gallantly carried the little naughty
one safely to the right side of the road.

Eliza, recognising him, saw that he was looking at her with the pleasant
air of an old acquaintance--one, in fact, who knew her so well that any
formal greeting was unnecessary--not that she knew anything about
greetings, or what might or might not be expected, but she had an
indistinct sense that he was surprisingly friendly.

"How's the stove going?" then he asked. He escorted her into the shop,
and superintended her little purchases in a good-natured, elder-brother
fashion. That done, he carried the elder child across the road again,
and Eliza went upon her way back down th