CHAPTER XIII.
LOVE-MAKING.
A dismal March afternoon, an earth hard as iron, with black frost, a wild wind troubling the gaunt trees, and howling mournfully around the old house. A desolate, wintry afternoon, threatening storm; but despite its ominous aspect, the young people at Danton Hall had gone off for a long sleigh-ride. Reginald and Kate had the little shell-shaped cutter, Rose, Eeny, Mr. Howard, Junior, Miss Howard, and Doctor Frank, in the big three-seated family sleigh. Amid the jingling of silvery bells, peals of girlish laughter, and a chorus of good-byes to the Captain and Grace, standing on the stone stoop, they had departed.
Captain Danton and his housekeeper spent the bleak March afternoon very comfortably together. The fire burned brightly, the parlour was like waxwork in its perfect order; Grace, with her sewing, sat by her favourite window. Captain Danton, with the Montreal True Witness, sat opposite, reading her the news. Grace was not very profoundly interested in the political questions then disturbing Canada, or in the doings and sayings of the Canadian Legislature; but she listened with a look of pleased attention to all. Presently the Captain laid down the newspaper and looked out.
"The girls and boys will be caught in the storm, as I told them they would. You and I were wisest, Grace, to stay at home."
Grace smiled and folded up her work.
"Where are you going?" asked the Captain.
"To get the remainder of this embroidery from Agnes Darling. Do you know what it is?"
"How should I?"
"Well, then, it is a part of Miss Kate's bridal outfit. June will soon be here, although to-day does not look much like it."