home for the holidays; here and there a harassed-looking man with
perhaps a single package which he had taken a whole morning to
select--all had the same spirit of tolerant good-humor.

"School Street! School Street!" called the conductor of an electric
car. A group of young people at the farther end of the car started to
their feet. One of them, a young man wearing a heavy fur-trimmed coat,
addressed the conductor angrily.

"I said, 'Music Hall,' didn't I?" he demanded. "Now we've got to walk
back in the snow because of your stupidity!"

"Oh, never mind, Frank!" one of the girls interposed. "We ought to have
been looking out ourselves! Six of us, and we went by without a
thought! It is all Mrs. Tirrell's fault! She shouldn't have been so
entertaining!"

The young matron dimpled and blushed. "That's charming of you, Maidie,"
she said, gathering up her silk skirts as she prepared to step down
into the pond before her. "The compliment makes up for the blame. But
how it snows!"

"It doesn't matter. We all have gaiters on," returned Maidie Williams,
undisturbed.

"Fares, please!" said the conductor stolidly.

Frank Armstrong thrust his gloved hand deep into his pocket with angry
vehemence. "There's your money," he said, "and be quick about the
change, will you? We've lost time enough!"