"Fierce; isn't it!" cried Russ in Ruth's ear.
"Awful, and yet this sister of mine pretends that she likes it."
"I do!" declared Alice. "It's glorious. I can't really believe it's a blizzard."
"It's the beginning of one, though," Paul assured her. "I hear the drivers saying so. Their blizzards up here start in with a squall like this, and soon develop into a bad storm. This isn't at its worst yet."
"Well, I hope I see the worst of it!" said Alice.
"Oh, how can you so tempt fate?" asked Ruth, seriously.
"I'm not tempting fate, but I mean I do like to see a great storm—that is, if I'm protected, as I am now," and Alice laughed through the whirling snow into Paul's face, for he had wrapped a fold of his big ulster about her.
"Oh, dear!" sighed Ruth.
"What's the matter?" asked Russ, anxiously.
"I'm so worried."