the woods girl, there had been no opportunity of
talking privately with her. And Margaret would only come to the window.
She was afraid to tell "Marm Sherwood" how she had lost the new dress
that had been given to her.

It was now as black outside Nan's window as it could be. She lit her oil
lamp and dressed swiftly, running at last through the cold parlor and
sitting room into the kitchen, where the fire in the range was burning
briskly and the coffee pot was on. Tom and Rafe were there comfortably
getting into thick woolen socks and big lumbermen's boots.

There was a heaping pan of Aunt Kate's doughnuts on the table, flanked
with the thick china coffee cups and deep saucers. Her uncle and the
boys always poured their coffee into the saucers and blew on it to take
the first heat off, then gulped it in great draughts.

Nan followed suit this morning, as far as cooling the coffee in the
saucer went. There was haste. Uncle Henry had been up some time, and now
he came stamping into the house, saying that the ponies were hitched
in and were standing in readiness upon the barn floor, attached to the
pung.

"We've twenty-five miles to ride, you see, Nannie," he said. "The boys
have to be at Blackton's so's to get to work at seven."

They filled the thermos bottle that had so puzzled Tom, and then sallied
forth. The ponies were just as eager as they had been the day Nan had
come over from the Forks. She was really half afraid of them.

It was so dark that she could scarcely see the half-cleared road before
them as the ponies dashed away from Pine Camp. The sky was completely
overcast, but Uncle Henry declared it would break at sunrise.

Where the track had been well packed by former sleighs, the ponies'
hoofs rang as though on iron. The bits of snow that were flung off by
their hoofs were like pieces of ice. The bells on the harness jingled a
very pretty tune, Nan thought. She did not mind the biting cold, indeed,
only her face was exposed. Uncle Henry had suggested a veil; but she
wanted to see what she could.

For the first few miles it remained very dark, however. Had it not been
for the snow they could not have seen objects beside the road at all.
There was a lantern in the back of the pung and that flung a stream of
yellow light behind them; but Uncle Henry would not have the radiance of
it shot forward.

"A light just blinds you," he said. "I'd rather trust to the roans'
sense."

The ponies galloped for a lo