But the next morning was cold and raw, as if to make up for the day before, and by afternoon a few flakes of snow were falling lazily and melting as they fell. When Bess with her little cousin came home from church, she suggested that their game could hardly be played the next noon; but Rob laughed at the idea, and left her with many assurances that the next day would see him on the spot, racket in hand.
But on Monday morning Bess woke up to find a real old-fashioned snowstorm raging outside. Already the drifts lay high and white, and the fierce gusts of wind swept the snow this way and that, and shook the house until each window and door rattled in its casing. Mr. Carter made his usual early start to his business, and Bess and Fred adjourned to the library, where they were glad to curl up over the register, for the wind seemed to force its way even through the walls. But the lessons went hard that morning. The roaring of the storm made Fred unusually nervous, and Bess caught his mood, as she glanced out occasionally to see the air filled with the hurrying snow-
