Jacqueline went back to the fire and, sitting down beneath the high mantel, opened the fifth volume of Clarissa Harlowe.

She read for a while, then closed the book, and with her chin in her hand fell to studying the ruddy hollows and the dropping coals.

Perhaps half an hour passed.

The door opened, and she looked up from her picture in the deep hollows to see Ludwell Cary smiling down upon her and holding out his hand.

"Perhaps I should have drifted past with the snow," he said, "but the light in the window drew me, and I heard to-day from Fontenoy.