There must be a front walk somewhere, though his uncertain feet could not find it, but with head down against the wind he struggled on, and now as he ventured to look up again he saw the door ahead, and a girl’s face pressed close to the snow-rimmed window, looking out.

The wind tore the breath from him as he groped toward the door, but then just as he came blunderingly up to the porch the door was opened and a strong arm reached out and pulled him into sudden warmth and light and cheer! It seemed like stepping out of horror into paradise!

Chapter 2

The Devereaux family had been up since before dawn.

Of course dawn in December did not break early, but it seemed exceedingly early to them all, they were so filled with excitement, almost as if all four of them, father, mother, son, and daughter, were just four children.

It was to be a special Christmas, the first since the children had finished college and come home to stay, the parents fondly supposed. They were all thrilled with the joy of it. Not even a sullen sky, which the day reluctantly parted to let in a somber gloom, could dampen their ardor.

“It looks as if it were going to snow!” said Father Devereaux hopefully as he wound the warm woolen muffler over his ears and around his throat, and buttoned his big coat to the chin.

“It sure does!” echoed Lance, stamping his feet into his galoshes and stooping to fasten them. “It wouldn’t seem like a real Christmas without snow!”

“Wouldn’t it be just perfect to have a white Christmas!” flashed Daryl. “Oh, suppose it should snow enough for sledding! How grand that would be!”

“It may,” said the father with another glance at the drabness out the window. “A few flakes can do a good deal in twenty-four hours if they really get down to business. And that sky looks like business, or I miss my guess!”

“Well, you’d better get going then,” admonished Mother Devereaux. “It will be a lot easier lugging a big tree home before the snow gets started. A blinding snowstorm doesn’t make pleasant traveling.”

“Oh, we’ll get home before that, Mother!” the son said, laughing. “We’re only going up on Pine Ridge. It’s not so far.”

“Oh, that’s good,” said the mother, drawing a sigh of relief. “Your father said you might be going up on the far mountain.”

“That was only in case we don’t find the right tree on Pine Ridge, Mother,” said the father, twinkling. “Daryl has given her specifications for height and width and we’re not coming back till we can fill them.” He gave a loving smile toward the daughter.

“Yes,” said the son, “we’re going to have the swellest tree we can find. But don’t you worry. I’m sure there are plenty of trees on Pine Ridge. I’ve had my eye on one ever since fall, if some other fellow hasn’t beaten me to it. But if we should be late don’t you worry. We’re going to be tasty in our selection.”

He gave his mother a resounding kiss as he took the package of sandwiches she gave him and stuffed them in his pocket. “We ought to be back in good shape around noon, or maybe before.”

They started out into the penetrating gloom, and the two women stood at the door and watched them away, then turned back to the bright kitchen and attacked the mountain of work they had planned for the day.

“Well,” said the mother briskly, “we can get a lot of work done with our men out of the way and be ready to enjoy them when they get back. You do the breakfast dishes, Daryl, while I mix up the doughnuts, and then you can fry them while I roll out the crust for the pies. I think we ought to have plenty of pies, don’t you? Young folks always like pies.” She drew a deep breath and set her lips firmly in a pleasant line. “Will mince and pumpkin be enough or would you think an apple pie would be good to have on hand, too? In this weather they keep indefinitely, of course.”

If her daughter had been watching her closely she might have sensed that there was something a bit forced in the very pleasantness of her smile, as she brought out the memory that there were to be guests before the day was over. But Daryl was absorbed in her own thoughts. There were starry points of happiness in her sweet eyes as she lifted them to meet her mother’s.

“Mince and pumpkin will be plenty, I’m sure,” she answered. “Don’t the new curtains in the living room look beautiful from here!”

She stood in the dining room door looking across toward the living room windows, and her mother came to stand beside her for an instant, feeling the thrill of joy at the sweet companionship of the day.

“Yes,” she assented. “They are lovely and sheer. I was afraid they were going to look cheap, but they don’t. I like the way you’ve looped them back with just that broad band of the fabric; and that spray of holly nestling in gives the right festive touch. The mantel looks lovely, too, with that bank of holly and laurel. Why, Lance laid the fire in the fireplace, didn’t he? I don’t see when he had time.”

“He did that while I was pouring his coffee,” the sister said with a laugh.