The director gave such brilliant accounts of the entertainment he had enjoyed during the absence of his companions that they bewailed their deprivation most bitterly, nor would they be comforted until the milliner had repeated her story of "Mrs. Perkins's Tea-party" and I had sung over again all my songs. As soon as the boy reported himself the three gentlemen hurried out to superintend the hitching up. We could see nothing of what was going on, excepting now and then a bright gleam cast by the lantern across the snow opposite our open door, but we could hear all that was said, and we soon learned that there was more trouble in store for us. The horse would not go. It was not that the load was too much for him, for when all was ready the three men came back to their old place and started the car, with the intention of helping the horse all the way. But it was of no use: he would not stir a step. Perhaps he disliked the look of the wagon; more likely, he was afraid to walk upon the timbers; at all events, he refused to budge an inch. The boy chirruped and hallooed and swore; the men pushed the car until it came up to the horse's heels; but he only kicked and baulked, and would not draw. There was nothing to be done but to dismiss the beast and his driver, and try again. So the three gallant knights went bravely to work, and we watched them, ashamed of our helplessness, and yet feeling that it was out of our power to prevent their self-sacrifice. The most that we could do was to keep up their spirits by cheerful talk and merry songs; and I must say that when not contrasted with their greater merit our courage in keeping up the semblance of gayety is not to be despised, considering that we had been sitting still for hours in cold and darkness, and had had nothing to eat or drink since our early breakfast. Even the one disconsolate member of our company was perhaps really incapable of exerting herself so much as we younger and naturally gayer women succeeded in doing.