ar, relief that
he was up again, and gratitude that made a certain cynicism, of late
becoming too well defined, fade into quiet purpose.

Unlocking the door, he went back to the window and looked across at
the long row of houses, as alike as shriveled peas in a dry pod, and
down on the snow-covered streets. Brilliantly the sun touched here and
there a bit of cornice below a dazzling gleaming roof, and threw rays
of rainbow light on window-pane and iron rail, outlined or hidden
under frozen foam; and the dirt and ugliness of the usual day were
lost in the white hush of mystery.

Not for long would there be transforming effect of the storm,
however. Already the snow was being shoveled from door-steps and
sidewalks, and the laughter of the boys as they worked, the scraping
of their shovels, the rumble of wagon-wheels, which were making deep
brown ruts in the middle of the street, reached him with the muffled
sound of something far away, and, watching, he missed no detail of
what was going on below.

"Goodness gracious! I've almost cried myself to death! And she found
you--found you!"

Van Landing turned sharply. The door was open, though he had not heard
the knock, and with a spring Carmencita was beside him, holding his
hands and dancing as if demented with a joy no longer to be held in
restraint.

"Oh, Mr. Van, I've almost died for fear I wouldn't find you in time!
And you're here at Mother McNeil's, and all yesterday I looked and
looked, and I couldn't remember your last name, and neither could
Father. And Miss Frances was away until night, and I never prayed so
hard and looked so hard in my life! Oh, Mr. Van, if you are a
stranger, I love you, and I'm so glad you're found!"

She stopped for breath, and Van Landing, stooping, lifted Carmencita's
face and kissed it.

"You are my dear friend, Carmencita." His voice, as his hands, was a
bit shaky. "I, too, am very glad--and grateful. Will you ask her to
come, ask her to let me see her? I cannot wait any longer."

"You'll have to." Carmencita's eyes were big and blue in sudden
seriousness. "The Little Big Sisters have their tree to-night, and
she's got a million trillion things to do to-day, and she's gone out.
She's awful glad you're better, though. I asked her, and she said she
was. And I asked her why she didn't marry you right straight away, or
to-morrow if she didn't have time to-day, and--"

"You did what, Carmencita?"

"That. I asked her that. What's th