CHAPTER FIVEThe road climbed up out of the valley and Cherry puffed and panted as she pulled the Governess cart up the steep incline, forging ahead through the snowstorm.
“I hope we are going to make it,” muttered Aurora, anxiously peering through the curtain of thick snowflakes.
“Just give the pony her head, Miss Aurora, she’ll find her way home,” suggested Phyllis, her voice sounding faint and muffled through the thick scarf she was wearing.
The snow was falling so fast that Cherry was soon wearing a thick white blanket on her back and head, and, as she plodded on, it became harder and harder to see where the road was leading them.
Aurora could feel the weight of the snow settling on top of her hood and the cold and damp beginning to seep through the thick material of her cloak.
She
