"Say! this is great!" she cried rapturously, with her feet braced and her eyes on the long road ahead. "When it don't get the hic-cups, it beats a horse all hollow!" "What do you know about horses?" teased Mac, giving unnecessary assistance with the wheel. "Enough to keep my hands off the reins when another fellow's driving!" she said coolly--a remark that moved Mac to boisterous laughter. When they were on the homeward way and Mac had taken the wheel again, they found little to say to each other. Once he got her to light a cigarette for him, and once or twice she asked a question about the engine. In Calvary Alley one talked or one didn't as the mood suggested, and Nance was unversed in the fine art of making conversation. It disturbed her not a whit that she and the handsome youth beside her had no common topic of interest. It was quite enough for her to sit there beside him, keenly aware that his arm was pressing hers and that every time she glanced up she found him glancing down. It was a night of snow and moonshine, one of those transitorial nights when winter is going and spring is coming. Nance held her breath as the car plunged headlong into one mass of black shadows after another only to emerge triumphant into the white moonlight. She loved the unexpected revelations of the headlights, which turned the dim road to silver and lit up the dark turf at the wayside. She loved the crystal-clear moon that was sailing off and away across those dim fields of virgin snow. And then she was not thinking any longer, but feeling--feeling beauty and wonder and happiness and always the blissful thrill of that arm pressed against her own. Not until they were nearing the city did she remember the couple on the back seat. "Wake up there!" shouted Mac, tossing his cap over his shoulder. "Gone to sleep?" "I am trying to induce Miss Birdie to go to the carnival ball with me to-morrow night," said Monte. "It's going to be no end of a lark." "Take me, too, Birdie, please!" burst out Nance with such childish vehemence that they all laughed. "What's the matter with us all going?" cried Mac, instantly on fire at the suggestion. "Mother's having a dinner to-morrow night, but I can join you after the show. What do you say, Bird?" But Birdie was still in the sulks, and it was not until Mac had changed places with Monte and brought the full battery of his persuasions to bear upon her that she agreed to the plan. That night when the girls were tucked comfortably in bed and the lights were out, they discussed ways and means. "I'm going to see if I can't borrow a couple of red-bird costumes off Mrs. Ryan," said Birdie, whose good humor seemed completely restored. "We'll buy a couple of masks. I don't know what Monte's letting us in for, but I'll try anything once." "Will there be dancing, Birdie?" asked Nance, her eyes shining in the dark. "Of course, Silly! Nothing but. Say, what was the matter with you and Mac to-night? You didn't seem to hit it off."