In the morning when Trenholme looked out, the land was covered deep in
snow.




CHAPTER X.


When the night train left Turrifs Station it thundered on into the
darkness slowly enough, but, what with bumping over its rough rails and
rattling its big cars, it seemed anxious to deceive its passengers into
the idea that it was going at great speed. A good number of its cars
were long vans for the carriage of freight; behind these came two for
the carriage of passengers. These were both labelled "First Class." One
was devoted to a few men, who were smoking; the other was the one from
which Trenholme had descended. Its seats, upholstered in red velvet,
were dusty from the smoke and dirt of the way; its atmosphere, heated by
a stove at one end, was dry and oppressive. It would have been
impossible, looking at the motley company lounging in the lamplight, to
have told their relations one to another; but it was evident that an
uncertain number of young people, placed near the lady who held the
baby, were of the same party; they slept in twos and threes, leaning on
one another's shoulders and covered by the same wraps. It was to seats
left vacant near this group that the man and his wife who had procured
the milk returned. The man, who was past middle life, betook himself to
his seat wearily, and pulled his cap over his eyes without speaking. His
wife deposited the mug of milk in a basket, speaking in low but brisk
tones to the lady who held the baby.