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The village was a small one. In ten minutes their brisk walking had taken them to the last house. Beyond that the road lay a smooth unbroken blanket of snow. Evidently the poorhouse was not often visited.

The girls stopped and looked ahead. “Is it worth the effort?” Margaret glanced up at her adopted sister. “We’ll have to wade up to our knees in snow, and we don’t know how far away that old house may be. I can’t see anything from here but a woods, and that’s at least a quarter of a mile, shouldn’t you think?”

Virginia nodded. “Fully.”

“Oh, I say, Megsy, be a sport. You came all this distance for an adventure and now want to back out. I think it will be scads of fun to walk over to that woods. I’ll agree to turn back there (if you’ll go that far), even if we don’t find the old house.” Betsy seemed so truly disappointed that the others decided to go to the edge of the woods.

The cold wind which had been blowing over the bluff by the sea could not reach them in the lowland and the mid-morning sun was warm, dazzling the snow.