There is no hurry with the things." She returned to the parlour, where Captain Danton, who had become very fond of his housekeeper's society of late, still sat.

And Agnes Darling, alone in the cosy little sewing-room, worked busily while the light lasted.

When it grew too dark for the fine embroidery, she dropped it in her lap, and looked out at the wintry prospect.
The storm that had been threatening all day was rising fast.

The wind had increased to a gale, and shook the windows and doors, and worried the trees, and went shrieking off over the bleak marshes, to a wild gulf and rushing river.

Great snowflakes fluttered through the leaden air, faster and faster, and faster, until presently all was lost in a dizzy cloud of falling whiteness.