“Let’s stop at the first house, then,” said Carry.

“The first house,” said Addy, peering through the gathering darkness, “is Squire Robinson’s.”  She darted a mischievous glance at Carry that, even in her discomfort and fear, brought the quick blood to her cheek.

“Oh, yes!” said Kate with gloomy irony, “certainly; stop at the squire’s by all means, and be invited to tea, and be driven home after by your dear friend Mr. Harry, with a formal apology from Mrs. Robinson, and hopes that the young ladies may be excused this time.  No!” continued Kate with sudden energy.  “That may suit you; but I’m going back as I came—­by the window, or not at all” Then she pounced suddenly, like a hawk, on Carry, who was betraying a tendency to sit down on a snowbank and whimper, and shook her briskly.  “You’ll be going to sleep next.  Stay, hold your tongues, all of you—­what’s that?”

It was the sound of sleigh bells.  Coming down toward them out of the darkness was a sleigh with a single occupant.  “Hold down your heads, girls:  if it’s anybody that knows us, we’re lost.”  But it was not, for a voice strange to their ears, but withal very kindly and pleasant, asked if its owner could be of any help to them.  As they turned toward him, they saw it was a man wrapped in a handsome sealskin cloak, wearing a sealskin cap; his face, half-concealed by a muffler of the same material, disclosing only a pair of long mustaches, and two keen dark eyes.  “It’s a son of old Santa Claus!” whispered Addy.  The girls tittered audibly as they tumbled into the sleigh; they had regained their former spirits.  “Where shall I take you?” said the stranger quietly.  There was a hurried whispering; and then Kate said boldly, “To the Institute.”  They drove silently up the hill, until the long, ascetic building loomed up before them.  The stranger reined up suddenly.  “You know the way better than I,” he said.  “Where do you go in?” “Through the back window,” said Kate with sudden and appalling frankness.  “I see!” responded their strange driver quietly and, alighting quickly, removed the bells from the horses.  “We can drive as near as you please now,” he added by way of explanation.  “He certainly is a son of Santa Claus,” whispered Addy.  “Hadn’t we better ask after his father?” “Hush!” said Kate decidedly.  “He is an angel, I dare say.”  She added with a delicious irrelevance, which was, however, perfectly understood by her feminine auditors, “We are looking like three frights.”

Cautiously skirting the fences, they at last pulled up a few feet from a dark wall.  The stranger proceeded to assist them to alight.  There was still some light from the reflected snow; and as he handed his fair companions to the ground, each was conscious of undergoing an intense though respectful scrutiny.  He assisted them gravely to open the window, and then discreetly retired to the sleigh until the difficult and somewhat discomposing ingress was made.  He then walked to the window.