It was a cold, snowy night.

Mother stood at the gate, holding a lantern.

She wouldn't let me stand there with her, it was so cold, but I was on my knees in a chair at the window, and I could see her.

She stood there so long, and it seemed so cruel that I should be in a warm room while she was out in the cold, that I slipped out and closed the door softly after me.

I stood a short distance behind her, and I had not been standing there long when a horse, covered with snow, came stumbling out of the darkness.