are no wings to flutter, or streams to trickle, or
chirrup of insects to break the calm. Not a footfall, not a sleigh
bell; not another light in sight, but only the moon. Anybody in the
road might have seen another light,--that which came from Dolly's
windows. She had been hard to suit about her arrangements; she would
not have candles lit, for she did not wish an illumination that might
make the interior visible to a chance passer-by; and yet she would not
have the shutters shut, for the master of the house coming home must
read his welcome from afar in rays of greeting from the windows. So she
made up the fires and left the curtains open; and ruddy firelight
streamed out upon the snow. It was bright enough to have revealed Dolly
herself, only that the house stood back some distance from the road.
Dolly watched and listened a while; then crossed the hall to the room
on the other side, from the windows of which a like glow shone out. The
fire was in order; the table stood ready. Dolly went back again. It was
so still outside, as if Sandie never would come. She listened with her
heart beating hard and fast.

For an hour and a half, perhaps; and then she heard the tinkle of
sleigh bells. They might be somebody else's. But they came nearer, and
very near, and stopped; only Dolly heard a mixed jangle of the bells,
as if the horse had thrown his head up and given a confused shake to
them all. The next thing was the gate falling to, and a step crunching
the crisp snow. Then the house door opened with no preliminary knock;
and somebody was throwing off wraps in the hall.

Dolly had made a step or two forward, and stopped; and when Sandie
appeared on the threshold, she was standing in the middle of the room,
as pretty a picture of shy joy as a man need wish to see in his heart
or his house. If Mrs. Eberstein could have been there and watched his
greeting of her, the lady's doubts respecting his being "the right man"
would perhaps have been solved.

But after the first hasty word or two, it was very silent.

"Dolly," Mr. Shubrick said at last. And there he stopped; nothing
followed.

"What were you going to say?" Dolly whispered.

"So much, that I do not know how to begin. I cannot get hold of the end
of anything. Are you not going to let me see your eyes? I do not know
where I am, till I get a look into them."

He smiled a moment after; for, although shyly and fleetingly, the brown
eyes were lifted for a brief glance to