"Then what are we to do?" she asked.
The young fellow smothered some sort of a vexed ejaculation between his mustached lips.
"We are to be patient," he answered, grimly. "Dabney knows a man a mile away from here who keeps a sleigh. He has sent off on the mere chance of its being at home to secure it for us."
He went out and left her sitting before the fire gazing into the glowing coals thoughtfully.
After he had gone she took out her watch and looked at it.
"Twelve o'clock," she repeated to herself, putting the watch quietly back.
Lance returned after an hour of patient waiting, accompanied by Mr. Dabney himself.
"We have been very unfortunate, indeed, in being unable to secure you a conveyance of any sort to-night, madam," he said, courteously. "It is now after one o'clock and all efforts have failed. Would it please you to retire and wait until morning? We will then provide comfortable means for your return."
She looked at Lance timidly.
"It is the only thing to be done," he answered, moodily. "I would walk to the city myself if it were the slightest use; but I am an indifferent walker, and could not possibly get back here till long after daylight; so the only course I see open is to wait for a sleigh which is promised me in the morning."