Before half-past seven Charles Eugene was harnessed, and Maria, still wearing a heavy winter cloak, had carefully deposited in her purse the list of her mother's commissions.

A few minutes later the sleigh-bells were tinkling, and the rest of the family grouped themselves at the little square window to watch the departure.
For the first hour the horse could not go beyond a walk, sinking knee-deep in snow; for only the Chapdelaines used this road, laid out and cleared by themselves, and not enough travelled to become smooth and hard.

But when they reached the beaten highway Charles Eugene trotted along briskly.
They passed through Honfleur, a hamlet of eight scattered houses, and then re-entered the woods.

After a time they came upon clearings, then houses appeared dotted along the road; little by little the dusky ranks of the forest retreated, and soon they were in the village with other sleighs before and following them, all going toward the church.
Since the beginning of the year Maria had gone three times to hear mass at St.Henri de Taillon, which the people of the country persist in calling La Pipe, as in the gallant days of the first settlers.

For her, besides being an exercise of piety, this was almost the only distraction possible and her father sought to furnish it whenever he could do so, believing that the impressive rites of the church and a meeting with acquaintances in the village would help to banish her grief.
On this occasion when the mass was ended, instead of paying visits they went to the curees house.