But what more! The storm that had threatened blackened the sky, and gray scudding clouds buried the canyon rims, and long veils of rain and sleet began to descend.

The wind roared through the pines, drowning the roar of the brook.

Quite suddenly the air grew piercingly cold.

Carley had forgotten her gloves, and her pockets had not been constructed to protect hands.
Glenn drew her into a sheltered nook where a rock jutted out from overhead and a thicket of young pines helped break the onslaught of the wind.

There Carley sat on a cold rock, huddled up close to Glenn, and wearing to a state she knew would be misery.