But the last hour of these she called _her_ hour; and always laid aside her book or sewing, and slipped from the couch to the floor at his feet, laying her head against his knees. * * * * * Snow came in December; and Christmas followed. They kept the mystic festival alone together; and Athalie had a tiny tree lighted in the room between hers and Clive's, and hung it with toys and picture books. It was very pretty in its tinsel and tinted globes; and its faint light glimmered on the walls and dainty furniture of the dim pink room. Afterward Athalie laid away tinsel and toy, wrapping all safely in tissue, as though to be kept secure and fresh for another Christmas--the most wonderful that any girl could dream of. And perhaps it was to be even more wonderful than Athalie had dreamed. * * * * * December turned very cold. The ice thickened; and she skated with Clive on Spring Pond. The ice also remained through January and February that winter; but after December had ended Athalie skated no more. Clive, unknown to her, had sent for a Shaker cloak and hood of scarlet; and when it arrived Athalie threw back her lovely head and laughed till the tears dimmed her eyes. "All the same," he said, "you don't look much older in it than you looked in your red hood and cloak the first day I ever set eyes on you." "You poor darling!--as though even you could push back the hands of Time! It's the funniest and sweetest thing you ever did--to send for this red, hooded cloak." However she wore it whenever she ventured out with him on foot or in the sleigh which he had bought. Once, coming home, she was still wearing it when Mrs. Connor brought to them two peach turnovers. A fire had been lighted in the ancient stove; and they went out to the sun-parlour,--once the bar--and sat in the same old arm-chairs exactly as they had been seated that night so long ago; and there they ate their peach turnovers, their enchanted eyes meeting, striving to realise it all, and the intricate ways of Destiny and Chance and Fate. * * * * * February was a month of heavy snows that year; great drifts buried the fences and remained until well into March. April was April,--and very much so; but they saw the blue waters of the bay sometimes; and dogwood and willow stems were already aglow with colour; and a premature blue-bird sang near Athalie's garden. Crocuses appeared everywhere with grape hyacinths and snow-drops. Then jonquil and narcissus opened in all their loveliness, and soft winds stirred the waters of the fountain. May found the garden uncovered, with tender amber-tinted shoots and exquisite fronds of green wherever the lifted mulch disclosed the earth. Also peonies were up and larkspur, and the ambitious promise of the hollyhocks delighted Athalie.