One fine bright morning towards the end of January, the sisters set out for their walk, willingly quitting the clear crackling fire within for the sharp air and sparkling pathways without. "Which way shall we go?" asked Margaret. "Oh, I suppose along the high-road, as usual. How provoking it is that we are prevented, day after day, from getting to the woods by my snow-boots not having arrived! We will go by Mrs Howell's for the chance of their having come." Mrs Howell had two expressions of countenance--the gracious and the prim. Till lately, Hester had been favoured with the first exclusively. She was now to be amused with variety, and the prim was offered to her contemplation. Never did Mrs Howell look more inaccessible than to-day, when she scarcely rose from her stool behind the counter, to learn what was the errand of her customer. "You guess what I am come for, Mrs Howell, I dare say. Have my boots arrived yet?" "I am not aware of their having arrived, ma'am. But Miss Miskin is now occupied in that department." "Only consider how the winter is getting on, Mrs Howell! and I can walk nowhere but in the high-road, for want of my boot." Mrs Howell curtsied. "Can you not hasten your agent, or help me to my boots, one way or another? Is there no one in Deerbrook whom you could employ to make me a pair?" Mrs Howell cast up her hands and eyes. "How do other ladies manage to obtain their boots before the snow comes, instead of after it has melted?" "Perhaps you will ask them yourself ma'am: I conceive you know all the ladies in Deerbrook. You will find Miss Miskin in that department, ladies, if you wish to investigate." Hester invaded the domain of Miss Miskin--the shoe-shop behind the other counter--in the hope of finding something to put on her feet, which should enable her to walk where she pleased. While engaged in turning over the stock, without any help from Miss Miskin, who was imitating Mrs Howell's distant manner with considerable success, a carriage drove up to the door, which could be no other than Sir William Hunter's; and Lady Hunter's voice was accordingly heard, the next minute, asking for green sewing-silk. The gentle drawl of Mrs Howell's tone conveyed that her countenance had resumed its primary expression. She observed upon the horrors of the fire which had happened at Blickley the night before. Lady Hunter had not heard of it; and the relation therefore followed of: the burning down of a house and shop in Blickley, when a nursemaid and baby were lost in the flames. "I should hope it is not true," observed Lady Hunter. "Last night, did you say?--Early this morning? There has scarcely been time for the news to arrive of a fire at Blickley early this morning." "It is certainly true, however, my lady. No doubt whatever of the catastrophe, I am grieved to say." And Mrs Howell's sighs were sympathetically responded to by Miss Miskin in the back shop. "But how did you hear it?" asked Lady Hunter.