“Ona isn’t here?” Jurgis demanded, too alarmed to wait for her to finish.

“Why, no,” said Jadvyga. “What made you think she would be here? Had she said she was coming?”

“No,” he answered. “But she hasn’t come home⁠—and I thought she would be here the same as before.”

“As before?” echoed Jadvyga, in perplexity.

“The time she spent the night here,” said Jurgis.

“There must be some mistake,” she answered, quickly. “Ona has never spent the night here.”

He was only half able to realize her words. “Why⁠—why⁠—” he exclaimed. “Two weeks ago, Jadvyga! She told me so⁠—the night it snowed, and she could not get home.”

“There must be some mistake,” declared the girl, again; “she didn’t come here.”