e woman, as he sat down to take
off his arctic overshoes.

"It's all that," said she. "You may hang your coats over them chairs.
It won't matter if they do drip on this bare floor. Now, then, come
right into the sitting-room."

In spite of my disappointment, I was glad to be in a warm house, and
hoped we might be able to stay there. I could hear the storm beating
furiously against the window-panes behind the drawn shades. There was
a stove in the sitting-room, and a large lamp.

"Sit down," said the woman. "She will be here in a minute."

"It strikes me," said Uncle Beamish, when we were left alone, "that
somebody is expected in this house, most likely to spend Christmas, and
that we are mistook for them, whoever they are."

"I have the same idea," I replied, "and we must explain as soon as
possible."

"Of course we will do that," said he, "but I can tell you one thing:
whoever is expected ain't comin', for he can't get here. But we've got
to stay here tonight, no matter who comes or doesn't come, and we've
got to be keerful in speakin' to the woman of the house. If she is one
kind of a person, we can offer to pay for lodgin's and horse-feed; but
if she is another kind, we must steer clear of mentionin' pay, for it
will make her angry. You had better leave the explainin' business to
me."

I was about to reply that I was more than willing to do so when the
door opened and a person entered--evidently the mistress of the house.
She was tall and thin, past middle age, and plainly dressed. Her pale
countenance wore a defiant look, and behind her spectacles blazed a
pair of dark eyes, which, after an instant's survey of her visitors,
were fixed steadily upon me. She made but a step into the room, and
stood holding the door. We both rose from our chairs.

"You can sit down again," she said sharply to me. "I don't want you.
Now, sir," she continued, turning to Uncle Beamish, "please come with
me."

Uncle Beamish gave a glance of surprise at me, but he immediately
followed the old lady out of the room, and the door was closed behind
them.

For ten minutes, at least, I sat quietly waiting to see what would
happen next--very much surprised at the remark that had been made to
me, and wondering at Uncle Beamish's protracted absence. Suddenly he
entered the room and closed the door.

"Here's a go!" said he, slapping his leg, but very gently. "We're
mistook the worst kind. We're mistook for doctors." "Tha