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she says you mustn’t. She says Bill Gates has just telephoned over from the garage to the church to tell her that your car is finished, and that he is sending it over to the church for her, but she is not to start till he gets there with the snowplow. He has been ordered out with the plow and they are coming up this way in about an hour. She is to follow right after the plow, and he will look after her.”
    Lance set down the empty pail with a troubled look.
    “It’s almost four o’clock,” he said. “I think I ought to go for her.”
    “No, she doesn’t want you to. She says there’s no sense in your having that long hard walk for nothing, and she will be here soon. Go talk to her. She’s on the phone still.”
    Lance hurried to the telephone. After he had hung up, Daryl, as she returned to the front of the house, heard him calling up Bill at the garage.
    “Well, Bill says he’ll be here in less than an hour,” said Lance, coming back, “so I guess she will be all right. She made me promise not to come. But I’ll be on the lookout and if they aren’t here on time I’ll go anyway. Now, come on. I have a few minutes’ reprieve. Where’s the stepladder? I’ll put on a few icicles at the top. Turn the lights on the tree, Daryl. Gosh, listen to that wind! I certainly will be relieved when R—when our guests get here!”
    “Yes,” said Daryl in a small, tired, worried voice, and cast her anxious glance out the window.
    It was just at that moment that Alan Monteith came to a sudden stop in front of the house, and the tree lights flashed out to meet him.
    “Oh, there he is now!” cried Daryl with a lilt in her voice, and rushed to press her face against the windowpane.
    “How do you know it isn’t Ruth?” said Lance, descending the ladder with a bound and coming to look out over her shoulder.
    “It’s a man!” said Daryl excitedly. “He got out! See! My! I never realized how tall Harold was! Go open the door, Lance, and tell him to come in the driveway. The snow is so blinding he won’t be able to find the walk.”
    “Open the door, nothing!” said Lance in a suddenly aloof tone. “Don’t you know if I’d open the door all outdoors would rush right in and freeze us? Wait till he’s up on the porch and then we’ll haul him in. He’s supposed to be a man, isn’t he? Well, I guess if he has come this far he can make it up to the porch!”
    Daryl’s joy shriveled within her at his tone, and then she rallied to thrill over the thought that Harold had really come! In all this storm he had come, to be with her!
    They watched the tall figure in the fading light, bending over his engine, then saw him shut the hood quickly and turn struggling toward the house.
    “Poor devil! He’s having a hard time at that!” said Lance, relenting.
    Daryl’s heart had time to leap up again with relief at her brother’s friendly tone, and then the door flung wide and the storm burst in, with a great swirl of wind that tore through the hall and into the living room like a hurricane, swinging the branches of the Christmas tree and making the crystal prisms on the candle sconces over the mantel shiver and tinkle as it searched the corners of the room and swung out into the dining room, waking up the two sleepers in sudden alarm.
    Just an instant. Then Lance reached out and pulled in the baffled creature striving to gain a foothold on the drifted porch, and slammed the door shut. With a sound like a sigh the noise ceased inside and the house settled to its usual warm peace again, with the firelight on the hearth and the Christmas light from the tree.
    The man shook the snow from his eyelashes, shook the snow from his coat to the linoleum of the hall, took off his battered snow-laden hat and stood forth—a
stranger!

Chapter 3
    D emeter Cass arrived at Wyndringham Ledge on the mountain at midmorning, while the snow was just beginning.
    Snow! Of course that was right for a festival season like this. One almost