She had dried her tears, with a child's happy facility in passing from one emotion to another, and was now astonished and interested by a marked change in the weather.
"Look for the lake!" she cried.

"You can't see it." A dense white fog was closing round them.

Its stealthy advance over the water had already begun to hide the boathouse at the end of the pier from view.

The raw cold of the atmosphere made the child shiver.

As Mr.
Sarrazin took her hand to lead her indoors, he turned and looked back at the faint outline of the boathouse, disappearing in the fog.