and the threats took visible shape at noon in
myriads of white snow feathers that filled the
air to the blinding point, and turned the brown,
bare world into a thing of fairylike beauty. Billy,
however, with a rare frown upon her face, looked
out upon it with disapproving eyes.

``I _was_ going in town--and I believe I'll go
now,'' she cried.

``Don't, dear, please don't,'' begged Aunt
Hannah. ``See, the flakes are smaller now, and
the wind is coming up. We're in for a blizzard--
I'm sure we are. And you know you have some
cold, already.''

``All right,'' sighed Billy. ``Then it's me for the
knitting work and the fire, I suppose,'' she finished,
with a whimsicality that did not hide the wistful
disappointment of her voice.

She was not knitting, however, she was sewing
with Aunt Hannah when at four o'clock Rosa
brought in the card.

Billy glanced at the name, then sprang to her
feet with a glad little cry.

``It's Mary Jane!'' she exclaimed, as Rosa
disappeared. ``Now wasn't he a dear to think