d dancing, and he looked down upon those sparkling charms, and in a
flat voice--said this:

"We have had a great deal of snow lately. How are your uncles and
aunts?"

But the young lady's enthusiasm was not in the least dampened. He was
her friend, not her lover, he was a kindly gleam of sunshine across the
dead level of her sad-colored life.

"They are all very well, thank you, Mr. Gilbert, and will be very glad
to see you. Sit down and take off your overcoat. You'll stay for tea,
won't you, and all night? Oh, how pleasant it is to see you back here
again!"

Happy Mr. Gilbert! And yet, if he had stopped to analyze that frank,
glad, sisterly welcome, he would have known it the most ominous thing on
earth for his hopes. Had he been Laurence Thorndyke she would never have
welcomed him like this. But just now he took the goods the gods
provided, and never stopped to analyze.

"Perhaps I was mistaken after all about Thorndyke," he thought, "he has
gone for good, and I never saw her look more brightly blooming. After
all a girl's fancy for a handsome face, and a flirting manner, need not
be very deep or lasting. It was only a fancy, and died a natural death
in a week. How fortunate I spoke in time, and how clear and true she
rings! I will ask her to be my wife before I leave Kent Farm."

He had come to stake his fate--"to win or lose it all," to lay his life
at her feet, but he had hoped for nothing like this. He loved her--he
knew it now as your staid middle-aged men do once in a lifetime. He had
waited until he could wait no longer--she might refuse, he had little
hope of anything else, but then at least, any certainty was better than
suspense.

Mr. Gilbert's greeting from the Kent family was all that mortal man
could look for. They had guessed his secret; perhaps they also guessed
his object in coming now. He was very rich, and above them no doubt, but
was there king or kaiser in all the world too good for their beautiful
Norine.

He stayed to tea. After that meal, while Aunt Hetty was busy in the
kitchen, and the men about the farm-yard, he found himself alone in the
front room with Miss Bourdon. She stood looking out through the undrawn
curtains at the still, white, melancholy winter night.

The first surprise and delight of the meeting past, she had grown very
still. His coming had brought other memories rushing upon her as she
stood here in that pretty attitude looking out at the frosty stars.

She was ne