All the morning the sky had been gray and threatening; and the threats took visible shape at noon in myriads of white snow feathers that filled the air to the blinding point, and turned the brown, bare world into a thing of fairylike beauty.

Billy, however, with a rare frown upon her face, looked out upon it with disapproving eyes.
"I _was_ going in town--and I believe I'll go now," she cried.
"Don't, dear, please don't," begged Aunt Hannah.

"See, the flakes are smaller now, and the wind is coming up.

We're in for a blizzard--I'm sure we are.

And you know you have some cold, already." "All right," sighed Billy.