John remained angrily expectant looking up the road.

Presently he heard the gay jingle of bells and around a turn of the road came a one-horse sleigh.

It stopped beside him.

He first saw only the odd face of the driver in a fur cap and earlets.

Then, tossing off the bear skins, bounded on to the platform a young girl and shook herself snow-free as she threw back a wild mane of dark red hair.
"Halloa! John Penhallow," she cried, "I'm Leila Grey.