The front door, opening directly into the living-room, with its long table, and its flashing fire lighting the eager faces round it--nobody had thought of or bothered to make any other light in that room--was flung open by a fur-gloved hand, and a large figure appeared in the doorway. A ruddy face looked in upon the scene. This face possessed a pair of keen gray eyes, a distinguished nose, and a determined mouth beneath a close-trimmed moustache with flecks of gray in it. Brown sprang up. "Doctor Brainard!" he cried joyfully, and came forward with outstretched hand. The unexpected guest advanced. Behind him appeared others. To the dazed and gazing boys these people might have come from Greenland, so enveloped were they in defences against the cold. Motor coats of rich fur, furry hats and caps, floating silken veils, muffs, rugs--wherever they came from they could not have minded coming, sharp as was the November air outside, as the boys, who had been hanging about the house since the first approach of twilight, well knew. Dr. Bruce Brainard was followed by two men and three women. In the flickering firelight Brown was obliged to come close to each, as in smiling silence they approached him, before he could make sure whom the furs and scarfs enshrouded. "Sue!" he exclaimed, discovering his sister. "And Hugh Breckenridge! This is great, brother-in-law! Mrs. Brainard--can it be Mrs. Brainard? How kind of you! You must have known how I've been wanting to see you. Webb Atchison, is that you, looming behind there? How are you, old fellow? But--this lady in the veil--" He bent closer as he took the gloved hand outstretched, but all he could make out in the traitorous light was a pair of dark eyes, and lips that must be laughing behind the heavy silken veil. "Do I know her?" he asked, looking round upon the others, who were watching him. "You have met her," Hugh Breckenridge assured him. "Several times," added Webb Atchison. "But not of late," said Brown, "or else I--" "Once to have seen her," declared Doctor Brainard, "means never to forget." "You put me in a hard place," Brown objected, trying in vain to distinguish outlines through the veil. "She isn't going to lift it? Must I guess?" "Of course you must guess, Don," cried his sister. "How can he?" laughed Breckenridge. "He knows so many fair beings of about that height, and furs and veils are disguising things. Without them, of course, though she wore a mask, he would have no difficulty." "Will you speak one word?" asked Brown of the unknown. She shook her head. "Then--forgive me, but I'm puzzled," said he, laying light but determined hold upon the veil. "I can't imagine at all who--would honour me--" He gently lifted the veil. The others saw his expression change as the drawn folds revealed a face whose dark-eyed beauty was vividly enhanced by the fire-glow upon cheeks which the November frost had stung into a wonder colour. There was a general laugh of appreciation.