She submitted with good grace, and began to feel some dawnings of
gratitude towards her deliverer.

Old Mr. Winters had walked back and forth from the fire to the window
for the last half-hour. "Why don't the child come," he said. "I'm
sure something has happened to her. If I could only go out and see,
but I should make poor headway, hobbling about in the drifts." He
could do nothing himself, so he fled to his unfailing refuge, asking
the God who rules the storms to protect his darling.

Mrs. Winters had said for the tenth time, "Why, father, I think she
wouldn't start back in this storm." Nevertheless she placed her
rocking-chair close by the window and looked down the road far more
than she sewed. Their anxiety reached its height when they saw a
stranger toiling up the hill bearing their daughter in his arms. The
door was opened long before they reached it, and Edna called out,
"I'm all right, mother."

"Why, it's Mr. Monteith, as sure as I live," said Edna's father.

"Yes, Mr. Winters," said Mr. Monteith, "I found a stray lamb of yours
on the highway, and brought it home."

"May God reward you," and Mr. Winters clasped his hand warmly. "I
have been very anxious. I did not see what was to become of her if
she was on her way in this terrible storm. How providential that you
happened to be going her way."

Mr. Monteith winced a little at this.