A WINTER AFTERNOON.

When Walter arrived, he found the paradise under snow. But the summer
had only run in-doors, and there was blooming. Lufa was kinder than
ever, but, he fancied, a little embarrassed, which he interpreted to his
advantage. He was shown to the room he had before occupied.

It did not take him long to learn the winter ways of the house. Mr. and
Miss Sefton were there; and all seemed glad of his help against
consciousness; for there could be no riding so long as the frost lasted
and the snow kept falling, and the ladies did not care to go out; and
in, some country-houses Time has as many lives as a cat, and wants a
great deal of killing--a butchery to be one day bitterly repented,
perhaps; but as a savage can not be a citizen, so can not people of
fashion belong to the kingdom of heaven.

The third morning came a thaw, with a storm of wind and rain; and after
lunch they gathered in the glooming library, and began to tell ghost
stories. Walter happened to know a few of the rarer sort, and found
himself in his element. His art came to help him, and the eyes of the
ladies, and he rose to his best. As he was working one of his tales to
its climax, Mr. Sefton entered the room, where Walter had been the only
gentleman, and took a chair beside Lufa. She rose, saying,

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Colman, but would you mind stopping a minute
while I get a little more red silk for my imperial dragon? Mr. Sefton
has already taken the sting out of the snake!"

"What snake?" asked Sefton.