A few days after that Fay met with a slight accident. The snow had been falling very heavily all night, and when Fay went to the window the next morning, she looked out on a white world, and not a vestige of the blue ice could be seen for the drifts that lay heaped on the little lake. She called Hugh to look out with her. "What a pity," she said, sorrowfully; "for we had asked the Romney girls and the Spooners to come up and skate this afternoon. Erle is so fond of young ladies, and he admires Dora Spooner immensely, and now I suppose there will be no skating." "Of course the men could sweep the snow away fast enough," returned Hugh, with a hasty glance at the glorious prospect outside; there were tiny bird tracks on the white surface, some brown sparrows and a robin were hopping across the snow. Not a breath stirred the laden branches, though they drooped under their snowy festoons. "I dare say the ice would be right enough for a little while, but the air feels milder, and there is danger of a thaw." "Never mind, we will see how it is to-morrow, and Erle shall take me for a walk instead. I suppose," a little plaintively, "you will be too busy to come too?" "Oh, yes, far too busy," Hugh assured her, as he seated himself at the breakfast-table and commenced opening his letters. Fay read hers--a few notes--and then sat silent behind her silver urn until Erle sauntered lazily into the room, and then she brightened up and began to talk. "I think I will send off a note to the vicarage, and ask Dora and the others to come all the same, and we will have a nice walk this morning--that is, if you do not mind, Hugh," looking at the handsome abstracted face bent over the paper; but she had to repeat her question before it reached Hugh's ear. "Oh, no! it does not matter to me," he answered, indifferently. "Ask whom you like, Fay. The Spooners and Romneys, did you say? Oh! by all means, if you want them;" but it may be doubted whether he ever heard her thanks as he buried himself in his paper again. The dogs were delighted at the prospect of a walk, when Fay consulted them; so a merry party started down the avenue--Fay in her furs and little sealskin hat, which made her look more a child than ever, and Erle in that wonderful coat of his, lined with sable, and the two big dogs racing on before them, and plowing with their noses in the deep cold snow. They had walked about two miles, and were thoroughly enjoying themselves, when all at once Fay slipped.