Mr. Monteith’s resolution was quickly made; he secured his mail and followed Edna.  “Who could she be?  He supposed he knew all the young ladies in town, but where did this revelation of loveliness drop from?” He turned corner after corner as she did, not caring where he went, only so that he kept her in view.  To his astonishment he soon found himself in the open country.  It was not a day that he would have chosen for a pleasure-walk in the country:  the snow eddied and whirled, and almost blinded him; but if he lost his face, his ideal realised, should he ever find it again?  There was no choice, so on he strode, congratulating himself that he happened to have on an overcoat and heavy boots.

The little brown-clad figure ahead of him sped briskly on, and faster and faster came the snow.  Things were beginning to look serious; the wind roared and howled through the pine woods, blowing the snow into drifts in the road.  Mr. Monteith had a new motive for his journey now.  He must protect this young girl in her lonely way; it was out of the question to leave her in such a desolate place and a storm raging.  He quickened his steps; she might need assistance.

A feeling of despair was beginning to creep over Edna.  What if she should sink down in this lonely place unable to go on.  She had left the main road a few minutes before, and this one by the pine woods was not much travelled.  It was probable that nobody would find her.  In dismay she turned and looked behind her, but no sooner did she see a man rapidly coming towards her than a mortal fear took possession of her, and she started forward with new impetus; on and on she ran as fleetly as a deer.  Mr. Monteith ran too at the top of his speed, wondering, inly, if she really were of the earth, and if she had not some means of locomotion that he did not possess.  He must reach her at all events.

Edna at last paused in dismay before an immense drift that lay directly across the road.  She would have plunged in, but Mr. Monteith was at her side and said pleasantly, “If you will allow me to go on first, I think I can tread a path for you.”

Edna looked up quickly, somewhat reassured by the manly tones, and the grey eyes that looked into hers were true eyes; a little child might have known that.

“Before we go on let me introduce myself,” and Mr. Monteith drew out a card and handed it to Edna.

When Edna read “Hugh Monteith & Co., Bankers,” all her fear left her.  The name of Monteith had long been a familiar one to her; she remembered hearing her father speak of having a little business with that bank.

“Well, I am Edna Winters,” said Edna simply.  “My father is Samuel Winters, and we live a little more than half a mile from here.”

“Then we are acquainted, I am sure, for your father is one of our depositors.  Now let me break a road through this barricade, if possible,” and Mr. Monteith dashed bravely into it; but as well as he could see through the blinding storm, the drift reached a long distance ahead.  It would be a work of time to tread it down, and the cold wind cut like a knife.