I want to try that new mare of yours in the dog-cart." When his host had left the room George forgot to light his pipe, but walked instead to the window and whistled solemnly.

"Poor old man," he said softly to himself, "it had to come to this, but I'm hanged if he doesn't take it like a Trojan." And he added certain striking comments on the ways of womankind and the afflictions of life, which, being expressed in Mr.Winterham's curious phraseology, need not be set down.
Alice had gone out after lunch to walk to Gledsmuir, seeking in the bitter cold and the dawning storm the freshness which comes from conflict.

All the way down the glen the north wind had stung her cheeks to crimson and blown stray curls about her ears; but when she left the little market-place to return she found a fine snow powdering the earth, and a haze creeping over the hills which threatened storm.

A mile of the weather delighted her, but after that she grew weary.

When the fall thickened she sought the shelter of a way-side cottage, with the purpose of either sending to Glenavelin for a carriage or waiting for the off-chance of a farmer's gig.
By four o'clock the snow showed no sign of clearing, but fell in the same steady, noiseless drift.