Kitty, I say, slipped away, and in twenty minutes was back in her fur coat and cap, nodding brightly to the first departing guests. These were the Bygoods, who feared Father had already been up too long beyond his usual time; it was long since he had passed so delightful an evening. "'The gay, the gay and festive throng, The halls, the halls of dazzling light!'" he quoted happily. "But you never asked me to dance, Mr. Bygood!" said Kitty. "If _you_ had asked me for the reel, I'd have stayed!" "Oh! oh, te-hee! te-hee!" quavered Mr. Bygood. "I fear I might have reeled more than I should, Kitty,--though sober, my dear, though sober! New cider never hurt any one, and our amiable hostess assured me it was not twenty-four hours old." Where had Wilson Wibird got hold of something stronger than new cider? Not at Madam Flynt's, certainly; yet this is what Kitty told me next day. Coming back from her last trip, at her own corner she came upon Wilson standing on the curbstone balancing himself and looking very forlorn. He called to her. He had lost his overshoes, and the snow was deep. "Could you give me a lift, Katrine?" he asked plaintively, the conqueror in him subdued by wet feet, which he hated as a cat does. "If you'll promise not to call me 'Katrine'!" was on Kitty's lips; but she checked herself. She _had_ been horrid to him; at her own party, too, when she ought to have been nice to everybody. "Weedy, seedy, needy--" "Think shame of yourself!" said Kitty to Kitty. Then aloud, "Very well, Wilson! I'll take you, though it's pretty late. Jump in!" The weather had cleared, and the night was so glorious that for the latest guests, all young and vigorous, Kitty had insisted on shifting over to Pilot and the open sleigh, and sending John Tucker home to his Mary, who had chosen this evening to have a "spell." Pilot thought it was time for a warm mash and bed; he sped swiftly through the white silent streets, where only an upper window here and there twinkled its assurance that the event of the season was over. The Wibirds lived at the other end of the village; Mrs. Wibird and Melissa had been among the early departures in the warm hooded sleigh behind Dan. Seated beside Kitty, wrapped in the same fur robe, Wilson felt the strong man from the north revive within him. The keen frosty air went to his head; or had something else gone there before? When Kitty, wishing to be kind to this forlornity, turned to him with "Hasn't it been a delightful evening, Wilson?" she was met by a burning glance (again, she would have called it a leer!) and a husky voice exclaiming, "Now, this moment, the evening begins! Katrine! my hour dawns!" "Don't be silly, Wilson!" she said curtly, but Wilson swept on, "You are beside me. I feel your presence, your gaze intoss-toxicates, Katrine! Together, thus, let us speed on through the night"---- * * * * * "Kitty!" I cried, "you frighten me! What _did_ you do?"