She reached the old road, the short-cut, stretched down through the stiff white woods to her own home; she hastened along it a little way, then she stopped and faced back and stood irresolute.

The icy wind stiffened her face, but she did not note it.

She looked back at the road with its blue snow-furrows stretching between the desolate woods, at the spires and roofs of the village beyond.

If one followed that road to the village and took the first one upon the right, and travelled ten miles, one would come to the town of Kingston.
Madelon began moving along on the road to the village, vaguely at first, as if half in a dream, then with gathering purpose.

Back she went, in her tracks, straight to the village and the tavern stable, and asked of Dexter Beers another horse to drive to Kingston.