se gusts,
great white drifts banked themselves like graves across the streets; a
moment later another gust shifted them around the other way, driving a
fine spray of snow from their sharp crests, as the gale drives the spume
flakes from wave-crests at sea; a third gust swept that place as clean
as your hand, if it saw fit. This was fooling, this was play; but each
and all of the gusts dumped some snow into the sidewalk ditches, for
that was business.

Alonzo Fitz Clarence was sitting in his snug and elegant little parlor,
in a lovely blue silk dressing-gown, with cuffs and facings of crimson
satin, elaborately quilted. The remains of his breakfast were before
him, and the dainty and costly little table service added a harmonious
charm to the grace, beauty, and richness of the fixed appointments of
the room. A cheery fire was blazing on the hearth.

A furious gust of wind shook the windows, and a great wave of snow
washed against them with a drenching sound, so to speak. The handsome
young bachelor murmured:

"That means, no going out to-day. Well, I am content. But what to do for
company? Mother is well enough, Aunt Susan is well enough; but these,
like the poor, I have with me always. On so grim a day as this,
one needs a new interest, a fresh element, to whet the dull edge of
captivity. That was very neatly said, but it doesn't mean anything. One
doesn't want the edge of captivity sharpened up, you know, but just the
reverse."

He glanced at his pretty French mantel-clock.

"That clock's wrong again. That clock hardly ever knows what time it
is; and when it does know, it lies about it--which amounts to the same
thing. Alfred!"

There was no answer.

"Alfred!... Good servant, but as uncertain as the clock."

Alonzo touched an electric bell button in the wall. He waited a moment,
then touched it again; waited a few moments more, and said:

"Battery out of order, no doubt. But now that I have started, I will
find out what time it is." He stepped to a speaking-tube in the wall,
blew its whistle, and called, "Mother!" and repeated it twice.

"Well, that's no use. Mother's battery is out of order, too. Can't raise
anybody down-stairs--that is plain."

He sat down at a rosewood desk, leaned his chin on the left-hand edge of
it and spoke, as if to the floor: "Aunt Susan!"

A low, pleasant voice answered, "Is that you, Alonzo?'

"Yes. I'm too lazy and comfortable to go downstairs; I am in extremity,
and I can'