The two sisters were nieces of the Dowager Lady Dalrymple. Another
niece also accompanied them, who was a cousin of the two sisters. This
was Miss Ethel Orne, a young lady who had flourished through a London
season, and had refused any number of brilliant offers. She was a
brunette, with most wonderful dark eyes, figure of perfect grace, and
an expression of grave self-poise that awed the butterflies of
fashion, but offered an irresistible attraction to people of sense,
intellect, intelligence, esprit, and all that sort of thing--like you
and me, my boy.

I am taking up too much time and anticipating somewhat, I fear, by
these descriptions; so let us drop Miss Ethel.

These ladies being thus all related formed a family party, and had
made the journey thus far on the best of terms, without any other
escort than that which was afforded by their chaperon, general,
courier, guide, philosopher, friend, and Mentor--the Dowager Lady
Dalrymple.

The party was enlarged by the presence of four maids and a foreign
gentleman. This last-mentioned personage was small in stature, with a
very handsome face and very brilliant eyes. His frame, though slight,
was sinewy and well knit, and he looked like an Italian. He had come
on alone, and had passed the night at the station-house.

A track about six feet wide had been cut out through the snow, and
over this they passed. The snow was soft, and the horses sank deep, so
that progress was slow. Nor was the journey without the excitement of
apparent danger. At times before them and behind them there would come