“Don’t forget, Mrs. Cramer, to take my cake from the oven in fifteen minutes,” Tibby said a little later, entering the room. “Why do you go when there is a storm coming?” inquired Mrs. Wylie. “Who says there is a storm coming? No one but Donald, and he is a croaker. I’m not afraid. Tempest will be a match for any storm that ever blew.” And a few moments afterwards Tibby tripped gaily down the path to the horse’s stable, her riding-skirt thrown over her arm, and her whole figure alert with joyous anticipation. As she emerged upon the back of her favorite horse and swept past the pedestrian, Donald, she called out saucily: “Isn’t a Tempest more in evidence to-day than a blizzard, Mr. Bartram?” Donald waved his hand at her, and she was gone, her low, rich laugh coming back to him in the moist air. Before Donald reached Nathan’s the sky had begun to be flecked with clouds, light and fleecy, that seemed to speed swiftly high in the air. Then he felt drops of rain that seemed to come out of the somewhere. At intervals the sun would shine brightly and warm. As the hours wore away Donald’s anxiety increased. Lissa looked out at three o’clock, to see the sky overcast with clouds, and large scattering flakes of snow floating about in the chill air. At the same moment Donald rode up from the stables on the back of his favorite horse, Duke, a large, powerful animal, of great intelligence and endurance. “I am going over to Mark’s, Lissa,” he cried, “to see if Tibby has returned. Within a half hour it will be impossible to see a rod ahead of one. If that wilful girl should attempt to start back in the face of the storm, as she is almost sure to do, she can never get home alone. Don’t go out of doors yourself. I’ve made all secure at the stables. If Tibby has returned I shall be back in a few moments. If not, I shall go to meet her.” Lissa’s face paled. “I know the danger, Donald. I hope, oh, I hope you’ll find her all right at Mark’s!” Donald was already far down the road, when the wind, suddenly veering, swept the house with such a shock Lissa was glad to close the door and draw up to the great stove for warmth. A few moments later Donald was at Mark’s door, and the swift-falling snowflakes were already obscuring the landscape when he rapped with his riding-whip and met the startled face of Mrs. Cramer. “Has Miss Waring returned?” he asked anxiously, searching Alice’s countenance. “No, and I am becoming worried about her. She would be sure to start home when she saw the storm coming up.” “Yes, I am going to try to find her. The wind is rising fast. Can you lend me a couple of blankets?” Alice flew to an adjoining room, and quickly returned with a bright woolen parcel, which Donald strapped to his saddle securely, while a wild gust of wind swept past him and struggled and tugged with him for their possession. “Why are you carrying your rifle?” Alice asked, noting his strange accoutrement.