“It’ll kill them horses,” he said; “but mabby that’s nothin’ to please the girl.” “If we only had runners now, instead of wheels, John,” Guy said, after a moment’s reflection. “Drive back to Aikenside as fast as possible, and change the carriage for a covered sleigh. Leave the grays at home and take a pair of farm horses. They can endure more. Tell Flora to send my traveling shawl—Miss Clyde may need it—and an extra carriage robe, and a bottle of wine, and my buckskin gloves, and bring Tom with you, and a snow-shovel, we may have to dig.” “Yes, yes, I know,” and tying his muffler about his throat, John started off through the storm, his mind a confused medley of ideas, the main points of which were, bottles of wine, snow-shovels, and the fact that his master was either crazy or in love. Meanwhile, with the prospect of going home, Maddy had grown quiet, and did not refuse the supper of buttered toast, muffins, steak, and hot coffee, which Guy ordered from the small hotel just in rear of the depot. Tired, nervous, and almost helpless, she allowed Guy himself to prepare the coffee, taking it from his hand and drinking it at his bidding as obediently as a child. There was a feeling of delicious rest in being cared for thus, and but for the dying one at Honedale she would have enjoyed it vastly. As it was, however, she never for a moment forgot her grandmother—though she did forget, in a measure, her anxiety, and was able to think how exceedingly kind Guy was. He was like what he used to be, she thought, only kinder; and thinking it was because she was in trouble she accepted all his little attentions willingly, feeling how pleasant it was to have him there, and thinking once with a half shudder of the long, cold ride before her, when Guy would no longer be present, and also of the dreary home where death might possibly be a guest ere she could reach it. It was after nine when John appeared, his crisp wool powdered with snow, which clung to his outer garments, and literally covered his dark cloth cap. “The snow was mighty deep,” he said, bowing to Maddy, “and the wind was getting colder. It was a hard time Miss Clyde would have, and hadn’t she better wait?” No, Maddy could not wait, and standing up she suffered Guy to wrap her cloak about her, and fasten more securely the long, warm scarf she wore around her neck. “Drive close to the platform,” he said to John and the covered sleigh was soon brought to the point designated. “Now then, Maddy, I won’t let you run the risk of covering your feet with snow. I shall carry you myself,” Guy said, and before Maddy was fully aware of his intentions, he had her in his arms, and was bearing her to the sleigh. Very carefully he drew the soft, warm robe about her, shielding her as well as he could from the cold; then pulling his own fur collar about his ears, he sprang in beside her, and, closing the door behind him, bade John drive on.