Outside the snow fell thick and fast as ever, and the
drifts rose higher and higher.
"I do wish Sam would come back," exclaimed Mrs. Wyndham at last, as she
threw herself into an easy-chair, and looked at the clock.
But Sam did not come, nevertheless, and Joe sat quietly by the fire,
wishing she were alone, and yet unwilling to leave the house where she
hoped to have the earliest information.
The two who seemed rapidly growing indifferent to the issue of the
election were Sybil and Ronald, who sat together with a huge portfolio of
photographs and sketches between them, laughing and talking pleasantly
enough. Joe did not hear a word of their conversation, and Mrs. Wyndham
paid little attention to it, though her practiced ears could have heard it
all if need be, while she herself was profoundly occupied with some one
else.
The four had a somewhat dreary meal together, and Ronald was told to go
into Sam's study and smoke if he liked, while Mrs. Wyndham led Joe and
Sybil away to look at a quantity of new things that had just come from
Paris.
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