"What in the name of the law ails her?" inquired Mrs. Jones.
"Nora! Nora! Nora!" cried Hannah, running after her. "Come back! come in! you will get your death! Are you crazy? Where are you going in the snowstorm this time of night, without your bonnet and shawl, too?"
"To Brudenell Hall, to find out the rights of this story" were the words that came from a great distance wafted by the wind.
"Come back! come back!" shrieked Hannah. But there was no answer.
Hannah rushed into the hut, seized her own bonnet and shawl and Nora's, and ran out again.
"Where are you going? What's the matter? What ails that girl?" cried old Mrs. Jones.
Hannah never even thought of answering her, but sped down the narrow path leading into the valley, and through it up towards Brudenell as fast as the dark night, the falling snow, and the slippery ground would permit; but it was too late; the fleet-footed Nora was far in advance.