A RECKLESS CHAUFFEUR Thanksgiving Day dawned bright and clear, with just enough frost in the air to make one's blood tingle.

It had been a mild fall, with a late Indian summer, and only one or two snow flurries that had lasted but a few hours.

This was unusual for Oakdale, as winter generally came with a rush before the middle of November, and treated the inhabitants of that northern city to a taste of zero weather long before the Christmas holidays.
It was with a light heart that Grace Harlowe ate her breakfast and flitted about the house, putting a final touch here and there before receiving her guests.

Before eleven o'clock everything was finished, and as she arranged the last flower in its vase she felt a little thrill of pride as she looked about the pretty drawing room.

Before going upstairs to dress, she ran into the reception hall for the fourth time to feast her eyes upon a huge bunch of tall chrysanthemums in the beautiful Japanese vase that stood in the alcove under the stairs.