Ellen's hand left the cloak again for an instant to press Alice's arm in answer; her voice failed at the minute. Then clinging anew as close to her side as she could get, they toiled patiently on. The wind had somewhat lessened of its violence, and besides it blew not now in their faces, but against their backs, helping them on. Still the snow continued to fall very fast, and already lay thick upon the ground; every half-hour increased the heaviness and painfulness of their march; and darkness gathered till the very fences could no longer be seen. It was pitch dark; to hold the middle of the road was impossible; their only way was to keep along by one of the fences; and for fear of hurting themselves against some outstanding post or stone it was necessary to travel quite gently. They were indeed in no condition to travel otherwise if light had not been wanting. Slowly and patiently, with painful care groping their way, they pushed on through the snow and the thick night. Alice could _feel_ the earnestness of Ellen's grasp upon her clothes; and her close pressing up to her made their progress still slower and more difficult than it would otherwise have been. "Miss Alice," said Ellen. "What, my child?" "I wish you would speak to me once in a while." Alice freed one of her hands and took hold of Ellen's. "I have been so busy picking my way along, I have neglected you, haven't I?" "Oh no, ma'am. But I like to hear the sound of your voice sometimes, it makes me feel better." "This is an odd kind of travelling, isn't it?" said Alice cheerfully; "in the dark, and feeling our way along? This will be quite an adventure to talk about, won't it?" "Quite," said Ellen. "It is easier going this way, don't you find it so? The wind helps us forward." "It helps me too much," said Ellen; "I wish it wouldn't be quite so very kind. Why, Miss Alice, I have enough to do to hold myself together sometimes. It almost makes me run, though I am so very tired." "Well, it is better than having it in our faces, at any rate. Tired you are, I know, and must be. We shall want to rest all day to-morrow, shan't we?" "Oh, I don't know," said Ellen, sighing; "I shall be glad when we begin. How long do you think it will be, Miss Alice, before we get to Mrs. Van Brunt's?" "My dear child, I cannot tell you. I have not the least notion whereabouts we are. I can see no waymarks, and I cannot judge at all of the rate at which we have come." "But what if we should have passed it in this darkness?" said Ellen. "No, I don't think that," said Alice, though a cold doubt struck her mind at Ellen's words; "I think we shall see the glimmer of Mrs. Van Brunt's family candle by-and-by."