CHAPTER II.--GRANNY AND THE CHILDREN. Two days later, in the dusk of a mid-winter afternoon, they were all arriving at Baronscourt. The ground was white with snow. 'What a storm there must have been here,' said the children's father. 'The snow is quite deep, much deeper than with us.' For their home was at some hours' distance, and farther south. 'Do you fink anybody will be lost in the snow, Nettie?' whispered Denis to his sister. They two were seated opposite their father and mother in their grandmother's brougham, which had been sent to the station to meet them, with a large covered wagonette for the rest of the party. Nettie smiled at Denis. 'Not here, Den,' she said. 'It's very seldom people are lost in the snow in England. It's in far-away hilly countries like Switzerland.' 'Was it there that mother was reading about?' asked Denis, only half satisfied. 'Yes,' said Nettie. 'It's there that they have the great big dogs that are so good, going looking for the poor people in the snow.' 'I shouldn't like to live in that country, though I _would_ love the dogs,' said Denis. And then jumping up in his seat with a scream of delight, 'O Nettie, O Nettie,' he cried, 'look, look! There's dear little Prin coming to meet us all in the snow; dear little Prin; oh, I hope he won't get covered up. Mayn't we stop to take him in?' 'We're quite close to the house, dear,' said his mother, smiling at his pleasure. 'Prin will be all right. Granny will not let him go far alone, you may be sure.' And as she said so, Prince, whose little smooth, jet-black body looked very funny in the snow, turned round after two or three sharp barks of welcome, and made for the house again. 'He's gone to tell them we're come,' said Denis; 'isn't he a _sensible_ dog, Nettie? I don't think I love _anybody_ better than Prin,' he said, ecstatically. They were at the front door by this time, and there, a little way back in the shelter of the hall, for it was very cold, and she was no longer a young lady, stood dear Granny waiting to welcome them.