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"When I was a little girl," said Joe, "mamma used to tell me a story about
the beautiful Snow Angel: she must have been just like you, dear."
"What is the story?" asked Sybil, the delicate color in her cheek
deepening a little.
"I will tell you to-night when we are skating, we have not time now. Here
we are." And the two girls went up the steps of the house where they were
going to lunch.
On the other side of the street Pocock Vancouver and John Harrington met,
and stopped to speak just as Joe and Sybil had rung the bell, and stood
waiting at the head of the steps.
"Don't let us look at each other so long as we can look at them," said
Vancouver, shaking hands with John, but looking across the street at the
two girls. John looked too, and both men bowed.
"They are pretty enough for anything, are they not?" continued Vancouver.
"Yes," said John, "they are very pretty."
With a nod and a smile Joe and Sybil disappeared into the house.
"Why don't you marry her?" asked Vancouver.


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