“I wonder Champion did not come over.”
“He ’phoned mother this morning, but before she got all his message the connection broke, and, I dare say, the roads have been almost impassable.”
“Impassable roads would never keep him from coming,” cried the “Champion’s” champion. “There must have been something worse than the roads. I don’t know what, but I know it was something,” insisted Jean.
“Yes, I am sure there must have been, he is always so thoughtful for us,” replied Constance, a soft light springing into her eyes as she recalled Hadyn’s unvarying kindness from the first moment she knew him. “Now, good-night, honey. I hope you won’t need me at all, but I know you will be on the lookout if you do.”
A moment later Constance was struggling back to the house through the blinding storm and snowdrifts. As she entered the back door the front one opened to admit a snow-covered, panting figure, and Hadyn confronted her.
“Great Scott! Where have you come from?” he demanded.
“I might ask the same question,” panted Constance, divesting herself of her cloak, and shaking it to free it from the snow which covered it. “Get out of your coat, quick, and give it to Lilly to hang in the kitchen until it is dry. What under the sun possessed you to try to come here to-night, you madman?”
“Under the sun? Nay, lady, neither sun nor moon. I fear you are wandering. Is it a case of blizzard-madness?” answered Hadyn, as he slipped off his big ulster and cap and gave them to the maid.
“Now, come along in here and tell me all the little mother couldn’t tell me. Where is she, and where is my little sister?”
“Lilly, please bring some more logs for the library fire. Come in here, Hadyn, and I’ll tell you all about it. Mother and Jean are over With Charles and Mammy, and I’m here to mount guard over the house and maids, who, luckily, are storm-bound.”