"I can't take ye to Middletown, Janice. Not till the roads is broke," Walky said, firmly, shaking his head.
"Hi! here comes somebody else up the road," shouted Marty, from outside.
Janice ran, hoping to see a team. It was only a single figure struggling through the snow.
"By jinks!" exclaimed Marty. "It's the teacher."
"It is Mr. Haley," murmured Janice.
The young collegian, well dressed for winter weather, waved his hand when he saw them, and struggled on. He carried a long parcel and when he went through the more than waist-high drifts he held this high above his head.
"Hi, there!" yelled Marty, waving his mittened hands. "Ain't you lost over here, Mr. Haley?"
"I see somebody has been before me," laughed Nelson Haley, following Walky Dexter's tracks over the fence and up to the cleared porch. "How do you do, Miss Janice? A very happy Christmas to you!"
"Thank you for your good wish, Mr. Haley," she replied, soberly. "But it is not going to be a very glad Christmas for me, I fear. Oh! is it for me?" for he had thrust the long pasteboard box into her arms.
"If you will accept them, Miss Janice," returned the young man, with a bow.