d
the station. She could telephone to the house from there, if necessary.
So she waited patiently till it should be time for her train to be ready
and then she went out and took her seat. It was snowing desperately hard
she noticed as they moved along, and the train stopped frequently, but
at last she reached her own station and got off feeling very thankful to
be this near home. She looked around; not a soul was there to meet her.
She would have to telephone. She turned toward the waiting-room, but to
her consternation found the door locked.

There was not a soul in sight. She stood still for a while. It was
getting colder, and the snow was drifting and swirling around at a great
rate. What should she do? The station master had probably gone home to
his supper, for there were no more trains till nearly six o'clock from
either direction. He had not counted on his presence being needed
between whiles once he had seen to his freight and baggage, and he had
gone to the back of the building where he lived.

It was not more than a ten minutes' walk to her home in good weather,
and Edna at last thought she would venture. She pulled her hat down over
her ears and her coat collar up around her neck and started. It was
desperate walking here in the country where the sharp wind seemed to
search out every unprotected part of the body. The snow nearly blinded
her, and cut her face like a knife. Every little while she had to stop
to get breath, and as she found the difficulties increasing she thought
of all the stories she had heard of persons perishing in the snow a few
yards from their own door-ways. "I wish I had gone back to Uncle
Justus," she murmured. "Oh, dear, I don't believe I will ever get
there."

The whiteness of the snow made it possible for her to see a little of
the way when she first started, but as she went on and it grew darker
she began to wonder if she were in the road. She brushed away the
stinging flakes and looked around, peering into the darkness gathering
around her. Through the blinding, hurrying flakes she could see
twinkling lights here and there, and presently she located the piece of
woods just beyond her own home, but it was far to the left, and she
realized that she had turned into a by-road instead of keeping to the
main one. The tears began to course down her cheeks when she appreciated
how far she was from her own house. "I can never go back," she sobbed.
"I can't. I am so cold and so tired, I'm