way," said the janitor. "He's for Wooler, and I've told him———"
"For Wooler? In this snow? Impossible, Tibbie! Why———"
The smart shoes suddenly tripped down the stair. Before I could realise my luck their owner was confronting me with curiosity and interest. I suppose I looked pretty forlorn and tramp-like; my water-proof coat was none of the newest, and I was wearing a disreputable favourite old hat. But I uncovered and made my best bow. And if I stared it was because the light of the old woman's lamp showed me the prettiest girl I had ever had the good fortune to see. Perhaps, because we were both young, I made bold to smile at her—knowingly.
"You think I shall be—lost in the snow and found dead in the morning?" I suggested.
"That's precisely what you will be if you try to reach Wooler to-night," she answered, with some liveliness. "Such a thing's impossible! even if you knew the way, and I think you don't. Of course, you must stay here. My guardian, Mr. Parslewe, is out, but———"
