"It has been a beautiful time!" said Glory to her shadow sister, when she went to hang away hood and shawl. "It has been a beautiful time—and I've been really in it—partly!"
CHAPTER XVIII.
OUT IN THE SNOW.
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"Sydnaein showers Of sweet discourse, whose powers Can crown old winter's head with flowers." Crashaw |
Winter had not exhausted her repertory, however. She had more wonders to unfold.
There came a long snowstorm.
"Faithie," said her father, coming in, wrapped up in furs from a visit to the stable, "put your comfortables on, and we'll go and see the snow. We'll make tracks, literally, for the hills. There isn't a road fairly broken between here and Grover's Peak. The snow lies beautifully, though; and there isn't a breath of wind. It will be a sight to see."
Faith brought, quickly, sontag, jacket, and cloak—hood and veil, and long, warm snow boots, and in ten minutes was ready, as she averred, for a sledge ride to Hudson's Bay.