How soon Christmas came! It fell on Saturday. Some of the girls were going home, several to visit friends or relatives, and those who remained were given a holiday. Miss Lane was to go; Madame Meran on Monday; Miss Gertrude was to have the week in New York. None of the other teachers resided in the house. Thursday night there fell a real snow. The others had been beautiful attempts that had melted away in the next sunshine. Friday morning was dull and gray, without a breath of air. The roofs wore white hoods or blankets, the trees absolutely stood still, ermined to their finger ends, someone said. But at ten the somber clouds began to give way, growing thinner and thinner, and one spot rather to the south suddenly became glorified with silvery touches, then golden and azure, and the world was in a flood of sunshine. Helen thought she had never seen anything so glorious before. "Oh, you beautiful, beautiful world!" she cried as she stood out on the porch, having said good-by to a group of girls. "It's a splendid thing just to live! But isn't it knowledge that enables one to understand and appreciate it all!" She went through the hall. Miss Craven had just come downstairs. "Oh, let us go out and look at the snow on our own small ravine. I am a country girl, and I think I have never really _seen_ a snowstorm before," laughing. "I lived in a rather flat country." Miss Craven's face slowly lighted up and an expression went over it like a smile that had not the courage to come out, but she followed readily. There was the smooth expanse over to the iron fence, then the tops of trees and shrubbery, set with thousands of gems of all colors, depending on the rays of the sun. The black hollow, that was the little stream they could not see from the porch, the elevation on the other side, the houses and grounds, the men shoveling paths, children snow-balling, active life already and here the extreme of silence. "What a picture!" "And I lived among hills and mountains," remarked Miss Craven. "I used to get so tired of the solitude. But you can be alone----" pausing abruptly, and adding: "You are not going away?" "No. But you shiver. Are you cold? Let us go upstairs to my room and have a talk. I shall be alone until next Saturday night. Daisy Bell has gone off to have a lovely time. There was no one who wanted me enough to petition for me, though I believe I was not to go home until next summer." "Oh, you have a home?" "Yes; and relatives. Come in," as they had reached the room. "We who remain have a holiday, and just now I do not feel in the humor for any serious thing. Let us compare our work. You are doing very well in music, Madame said. I ask about you;" and there was an expression of real interest in Helen's face that called a pleased flush to that of Miss Craven.