I got an opportunity of speaking to Miss Forrest, but only for a very short time; at the same time, I noticed that Voltaire took not the slightest notice of her.
When I awoke the following morning and looked out, I saw that the great Yorkshire hills were covered with snow, the air was bitingly cold, and the leaden sky promised us some real Christmas weather.
I was soon dressed and ready to go down, but on looking at my watch I found I had an hour to spare before breakfast.

Arrangements had been made for us to breakfast at ten, and thus be just in time for service at the little village church.
On my way down-stairs I saw Tom Temple, who told me to find my way to the library, where I should be able to pass the time pleasantly.

I entered the room, an old-fashioned dark place lined on every side with books.

I felt in no mood for looking at them just then, however, and so walked to a window and looked out on the snow-draped landscape that stretched away on every hand.

It was a wondrous scene.