She turned, and to her surprise found Swiss by her side, looking up at her with his large, intelligent eyes.  Quick as lightning, Uncle Ike’s story came back to her mind.  She patted Swiss on the head, and pointed out into the storm.

Not another word was needed.  With a bound Swiss went into the snow and rapidly forward in the direction of the road.  Mandy was obliged to close the door again and resume her place at the window.  How her heart beat!  How she watched the dog as he ploughed his way through the drifts?  He must be near the place.  Yes, he is scratching and digging down into the snow.  Now the dark form appears once more.  Yes, Hiram is on his feet again and man and dog resume their fight with the elements.

It seemed an age to Mandy, but it was in reality not more than five minutes, before Hiram and Swiss reached the kitchen door and came into the room.

“Come out into the back room,” said Mandy to Hiram.  “I don’t want this snow all over my kitchen floor.”  So Hiram and Swiss were taken into the big room and in a short time came back in presentable condition.

“Now, Mr. Maxwell, if you have recovered the use of your tongue, will you kindly inform me what sent you out in such a storm as this?”

“Well,” replied Hiram, “I reckoned I’d git down kinder early in the mornin’ and git back afore dark.”

“That’s all right,” said Mandy; “but that don’t tell me what you are out for, anyway.”

“Well, you didn’t suppose,” said Hiram, “that I could go all day long without seein’ you, did yer, Mandy?”

Mrs. Crowley chuckled to herself and went into the side room.  Even Swiss seemed to recognize that two were company and he followed Mrs. Crowley and resumed his old resting place in the corner on the pallet.

As Mrs. Crowley went about her work, she chuckled again, and said to herself, “It’s a weddin’ I’ll be goin’ to next time in place of a funeral.”

Upstairs other important events were taking place.  Quincy had gone to his room directly after breakfast, and looked out upon the wild scene of storm with a sense of loneliness that had not hitherto oppressed him.  Why should he be lonely?  Was he not in the same house with her, with only a thin wall of wood and plaster between them?  Yes, but if that wall had been of granite one hundred feet thick, it could not have shut him off more effectually from seeing her lovely face and hearing her sweet voice.

There came a sharp rap at the door.

“Come in,” called out Quincy.

“Ah!” said Uncle Ike as he entered, “I am glad to see you have a good fire.  The snow has blown down into Alice’s room and her fire is out.  Will you let her step in here for a few moments, Mr. Sawyer, until ’Zeke and I get the room warm again?”

“Why, certainly,” replied Quincy.  “I am only too happy—­”

But Uncle Ike was off, and returned in a few moments leading Alice.  Quincy placed a chair for her before the fire.  This cold wintry day she wore a morning dress of a shade of red which, despite its bright color, seemed to harmonize with the golden hair and to take the place of the sun, which was not there to light it up.