216 By Stream and Sea. 



his friend and his dog-cart outside of the station ; at being, 

 after flying over ten miles of road in three-quarters of an 

 hour, welcomed at Kype Manor — I say, let these be taken 

 as matters of course. There he was, in the warmth and 

 light, and there he meant to stay. The snow seemed to 

 come down expressly to welcome him : it had been expected 

 for days, but not a flake appeared until the dogcart turned 

 into the avenue of elms by which the house is approached. 

 The most sentimental of Harvey's daughters plucked a very 

 sweet sonnet out of the circumstance, hailing the snow as at 

 once a welcome guest and a welcoming host. 



" Quite an old-fashioned winter," said Harvey next morn- 

 ing as the friends stood together at the French window of 

 the breakfast-room, looking out in that dreamy manner that 

 people somehow always put on when the landscape has been 

 newly whitened. 



" Yes," Thornbury answered, " everybody seems to have 

 discovered that this morning; but we have not had much 

 downfall yet, and I see the thermometer only marks forty 

 degrees in the hall." 



" All in good time," continued the host. " To-morrow 

 morning we shall be below freezing point, and hard weather 

 is a dead certainty ; I told you so," he added, turning to 

 his gentle wife. 



" Yes," Mrs. Kype said, " Harvey is a very good weather 

 prophet. He declares that the movements of the birds 

 during the late autumn are as good as any barometers, 

 terrometers, or meteorological departments. He certainly 

 has, from Michaelmas to the present time, foretold a hard 

 winter." 



" That's a nuisance then," said Thornbury, " for there's 

 an end of my sport." 



" Ah," replied his friend, " I had forgotten that you are 



