"Oh! I see." And they were off and away through the wind-driven snow.
The girl, instinctively aware of the shyness and discomfort of her companion, set herself to put him at ease. The lessening snow still fell, but now a brilliant sun lighted the white radiance of field and forest. He was warmer, and the disconnected chat of childhood began.
"The snow is early. Don't you love it?" said the small maid bent on making herself agreeable.
"No, I do not."
"But, oh!—see—the sun is out. Now you will like it. I suppose you don't know how to walk in snow-shoes, or it would be lovely to go right home across country."
"I never used them. Once I read about them in a book."
"Oh! you'll learn. I'll teach you."
John, used to being considered and flattered, as he became more comfortable began to resent the way in which the girl proposed to instruct him. He was silent for a time.
"Tuck in that robe," she said. "How old are you?"
"This last September, fifteen. How old are you?"