But at half-past-one there was still no sign of the sleighing party.  Moreover, the storm was steadily increasing; it had become what is known as a “blizzard.”  Even in the protected suburban street the drifts were beginning to show size, and the arc-light at the corner was almost lost to view through the downfall.

Charlotte turned to her husband with something like imperiousness in her manner, and met the same decision in his look.  Before she could speak he said: 

“Yes, I’ll go to meet them.  It does look as if they might be stalled somewhere.  It’s rather a lonely road till they reach the railroad, and it’s possible they’ve missed the way.”

He went to the telephone.

“Andy,” cried Charlotte, following him, “order a double sleigh, please!  I must go with you.”

He turned and looked at her, hesitating.  “It isn’t necessary, dear.  I’ll go over and wake up Just, I think.  We two will be—­”

“I must go,” she interrupted.  “I couldn’t endure to wait here any longer.  And if Evelyn should be very much chilled she’ll need me to look after her.  Besides—­”

He smiled at her.  “You won’t let me get lost in a snow-drift myself without you.”

She nodded, and ran away to make ready.  By the time the livery-stable had been awakened from its early morning apathy, and had sent round the double sleigh with the best pair of horses in its stalls, the party was ready.

Just, awakened by snowballs thrown in at his open window, had joyfully dressed himself.  At the last moment Charlotte had thought of the automobile headlight, and this, hurriedly filled and lighted, streamed out over the snow as the three jumped into the sleigh.  All were warmly dressed, and Charlotte had brought many extra wraps, as well as a supply of medicines for a possible emergency of which she did not like to think.

“Julius Caesar, but this is a night!” came from between Just’s teeth, as the sleigh reached the end of the suburban streets and made the turn upon the open country road.  He clutched at his cap, pulling it still farther down over his ears.  “What a change in six hours!”

“This is a straight nor’easter,” answered Doctor Churchill, slapping hands already chilled, in spite of his heavy driving gloves.  Then he turned his head.  “Can’t you keep well down behind us, Charlotte?” he called over his shoulder.

“I’m all right!” she called back.  One had to shout to be heard in the roar of the wind.

After that nobody talked, except as Just from time to time offered to drive, to give Andrew’s hands a chance to warm.  That young man, however, would not give over the reins to anybody.  It was not for nothing that he had been driving over this country, under all possible conditions of weather, for nearly five years.

When they had crossed the railroad which marked the end of the main highway between two towns and the beginning of the narrow side road which led off across country to the farmhouse of the sleighing party, conviction that the young people had been stalled somewhere on the great plain they were crossing became settled.