Alec jumped out of bed in delight.

It was a sunny, frosty morning.

The snow had fallen all night, with its own silence, and no wind had interfered with the gracious alighting of the feathery water.

Every branch, every twig, was laden with its sparkling burden of down-flickered flakes, and threw long lovely shadows on the smooth featureless dazzle below.

Away, away, stretched the outspread glory, the only darkness in it being the line of the winding river.