skated together as girl and boy. They had made each other Christmas
and New Year's presents all their lives; and, to say the truth, loved
each other honestly and truly: nevertheless, John fell in love with
Lillie, and married her. Did you ever know a case like it?

CHAPTER XVIII.

_A BRICK TURNS UP_.

The snow had been all night falling silently over the long elm avenues
of Springdale.

It was one of those soft, moist, dreamy snow-falls, which come down
in great loose feathers, resting in magical frost-work on every tree,
shrub, and plant, and seeming to bring down with it the purity and
peace of upper worlds.

Grace's little cottage on Elm Street was imbosomed, as New-England
cottages are apt to be, in a tangle of shrubbery, evergreens,
syringas, and lilacs; which, on such occasions, become bowers of
enchantment when the morning sun looks through them.

Grace came into her parlor, which was cheery with the dazzling
sunshine, and, running to the window, began to examine anxiously the
state of her various greeneries, pausing from time to time to look out
admiringly at the wonderful snow-landscape, with its many tremulous
tints of rose, lilac, and amethyst.

The only thing wanting was some one to speak to about it; and, with a
half sigh, she thought of the good old times when John would come to
her chamber-door in the morning, to get her out to look on scenes like
this.

"Positively," she said to herself, "I must invite some one to visit
me. One wants a friend to help one enjoy solitude." The stock of
social life in Springdale, in fact, was running low. The Lennoxes and
the Wilcoxes had gone to their Boston homes, and Rose Ferguson was
visiting in New York, and Letitia found so much to do to supply her
place to her father and mother, that she had less time than usual to
share with Grace. Then, again, the Elm-street cottage was a walk of
some considerable distance; whereas, when Grace lived at the old
homestead, the Fergusons were so near as to seem only one family, and
were dropping in at all hours of the day and evening.

"Whom can I send for?" thought Grace to herself; and she ran
over mentally, in a moment, the list of available friends and
acquaintances. Reader, perhaps you have never really estimated your
friends, till you have tried them by the question, which of them you
could ask to come and spend a week or fortnight with you, alone in a
country-house, in the depth of winter. Such an invitatio