be called on. The small boys will vie
with each other to keep your paths shovelled, and Bob wishes to be
considered guard-in-chief."

"Cynthia will be flattered to be asked to help you in any way, dear,"
Ellen urged. "She will be lonely with no one to cook for,--do make her
happy by letting her do things for you."

"You dear people," Charlotte responded, "be assured that Granny and I
will remember all these counsels. Don't have us on your minds, but come
back to us with the first crocuses, and know that we shall be wild with
delight at seeing you."

Burns stooped over Madam Chase's chair, and took both her small hands in
his. "What shall I bring you from Germany, dear lady?" he asked.

She always heard him better than she heard most people, and laughed like
a pleased child at the question. "I spent a winter in Berlin, when I was
a young woman," said she. "I remember it clearly enough. There was a
little shop in one of the streets--I forget just which--where they sold
pictures of the emperor, in little carved frames. William the First, it
was then, grandfather of the present Emperor. I should like such another
little picture of the present Kaiser--and thank you!"

"You shall have it--and something else, of my own choosing, if I may.
Good-bye, dear lady. May I kiss you good-bye?"

She permitted the privilege, beaming with pleasure under the reverent
touch of her fair cheek. Then she gave Burns a parting admonition.

"Take good care of that wife of yours; she is well worth it," she said.

"I realize that more every day, Madam Chase. I'll take care of her--with
my life," he said, soberly, close to her ear. Then he bore Ellen away,
both looking back with friendly eyes at the pair they left in the
cottage, and wishing them well with all their warm hearts.

They had barely sailed when the first heavy snowfall of the season
covered the world with a blanket of white, and this was the forerunner of
almost continuous genuine winter weather. No severe storms such as Ellen
had prophesied assailed the region until the first of February, but then
came such a one as deserved no other name than the modern term of
blizzard, a happening of which Madam Ruston and Charlotte had heard,
but had never genuinely experienced.

"We're going to show you the real article this time," declared James
Macauley, stamping his way in out of the snow one evening, when the storm
had been in progress for twenty-four hours without intermission. "I