She was roused by the clicking of the front gate, and peeped fearfully under the window-blind. Susan was coming! She had paused for a moment to harangue the orphans, who were splashing up and down the middle of the road, knee deep in mud. Miss Arabella sprang up in a panic. Susan would find out. There would be no use trying to hide from her that something tremendous had happened, and she and William and the children would laugh at old Aunt Arabella's foolishness. And Susan would step in, with her strong will, and turn poor Martin away, as she had done so long ago. She must get away; she must find some hiding place for her secret. She snatched up the blue silk in frantic haste and bundled it beneath her shawl. Like a refuge to a pursued hare, came the thought of Elsie Cameron. She would run to Elsie. A glance at the window showed Susan still in violent dispute with the orphans. There was yet time to escape. Miss Arabella darted for the kitchen, frightening Polly into incoherent squalls, tore open the door, and dashed out into the storm. She splashed through the back garden, scrambled recklessly over the fence, and went staggering along the soft, yielding field behind the line of houses. The rain beat in her face, the wind flung her shawl over her head and twisted her thin skirt about her, and she knew, if Granny Long's telescope spied her, as it was almost sure to do, the whole village would be sure she had gone mad. But she was reckless. The chance of happiness had come with dazzling unexpectedness, and she was like a drowning man, who forgets all else but, the life-line thrown to him. On she ran, like a little brown leaf driven by the wind and rain, her head bent, her shawl clutched closely around her precious bundle. She was plunging down among the dripping cedars of Treasure Valley, when she noticed, with dismay, that the stream was flowing high above the stepping-stones. It came roaring out from under the bridge, swift and swollen, with clumps of ice and snow whirling down its oily surface. Not a moment did she hesitate, but turned and scrambled up the bank again. She would likely be seen as soon as she crossed the bridge, but she must get to Elsie, no matter what the consequences. As she reached the bridge the doctor's buggy came splashing down the street behind her. He smiled, and pulled up beside the little wind-blown figure. "May I drive you to your destination, Miss Winters?" he asked.