at the world still rolled on, and each looked at
the other and laughed at her fright--till the prospect of an evening of
storm sobered them both.

"Mercy!" Mrs. Pollard breathed in discouragement. "We're in for another
night of it. We've had this sort of thing for a week. And to-night of
all nights, when I wanted you to see this wonderful country under the
moon!"

Mrs. Pollard, followed by her guest, Mrs. Reeves, ventured to the window
timidly again, to challenge what part of the sky they could see from
under the great portico outside, and learn its portent for the night.

An evil visage it wore--a swift change from a noon-day of beaming calm.
Now it was curtained completely with blue-black cloud, which sent out
mutterings, and then long brooding silences more ominous still in their
very concealment of the night's intentions.

There was no defence against it but to draw down the blinds and shut out
this angry gloom in the glow of the lamps within. And, with a half hour
of such glow to cozen them, the two women were soon merry again over
their reminiscences, Mrs. Pollard at her embroidery, Mrs. Reeves at the
piano, strumming something from Chopin in the intervals of their
chatter.

"The girl" fetched them their tea. "Five already!" Mrs. Pollard verified
the punctuality of her servant with a glance at the clock. "Then John
will be away for another night. I do hope he won't try to get back this
time. Night before last he left his assistant with a case, and raced his
horse ten miles in the dead of the night to get home," Mrs. Pollard
proudly reported, "for fear I'd be afraid in the storm."

"And married four years!" Mrs. Reeves smilingly shook her head in
indulgence of such long-lived romance.

In the midst of their cakes and tea the bell announced an impatient hand
at the door.

"Well, 'speak of angels!'" Mrs. Pollard quoted, and flew to greet her
husband. But she opened the door upon smiling old Mr. Barber, instead,
from the precincts across the village street.

Mr. Barber seemed to be embarrassed. "I--I rather thought you mought be
wanting something," he said in words. By intention he was making apology
for the night. "I saw the doctor drive away, but I haven't seen him come
back. So I--I thought I'd just run over and see--see if there wasn't
something you wanted." He laughed uneasily.

Mr. Barber's transparent diplomacy having been rewarded with tea, they
all came at once to direct speech. "It ain't going to