WHAT CAME WITH THE SNOW AND ICE
After that memorable week of Hallowe'en, affairs at Oak Knowe settled
into their ordinary smooth running. That week had brought to all the
school a surfeit of excitement so that all were glad of quiet and
peace.
"The classes have never made such even, rapid progress before, in all
the years I've been here;" said the Lady Principal to the good Bishop.
"Things are almost ominously quiet and I almost dread to have
Christmas time approach. All the young ladies get more interested then
in gift-preparing and anticipations of vacations at home than in
school routine. I hate to have that interrupted so soon again."
The Bishop laughed.
"My dear Miss Muriel, you take life too seriously. Upheavals are good
for us. Our lives would grow stagnant without them."
"Beg pardon, but I can't fancy affairs at Oak Knowe ever being
stagnant! Nor do I see, as you seem to, any fine results from the
happenings of Hallow week. One of the ill results is--I cannot find a
competent boot-boy. That makes you smile again, but I assure you it is
no trifle in a large establishment like this, with it the rule that
every pupil must walk the muddy road each day. The maids will do the
work, of course, but they grumble. I do wish the ground would freeze
or some good boy offer his services."
A rattling of the window panes and a sound of rising wind sent the
Bishop to the window:
"Well, Miss Tross-Kingdon, one of your wishes is already coming true.
There's a blizzard coming--surely. Flakes are already falling and I'm
glad the double sashes are in place on this north side the building,
and that Michael has seen to having the toboggan slide put in order.
I prophesy that within a few days all the young folks will be
tobogganing at a glorious rate. That's one of the things I'm thankful
for--having been born in Canada where I could slide with the best!"
He turned about and the lady smiled at his boyish enthusiasm. He was a
man who never felt old, despite his venerable white head, but as he
moved again toward the fire and Dorothy entered the room a shadow
crossed his face. He had sent for her because within his pocket lay a
letter he knew she ought to have, yet greatly disliked to give her.
All the mail matter coming to the Oak Knowe girls passed first
through their instructors' hands, though it was a rare occasion when
such was not promptly delivered.
This letter the Bishop had read as usual, but it had not pleased him.
It was signed by one James Barlow, evidently a very old friend of
Dorothy's, and was written with a boyish assumption of authority that
was most objectionable, the Bishop thought. It stated that Mr. Seth
Winters was very ill and that Mrs. Calvert was breaking down from
grief and anxiety concerning him; and that, in the writer's opinion,
Dorothy's duty lay at home and not in getting an education away up
there in Canada. "Anybody who really wishes to learn can do that
anywhere," was the conclusion of this rather stilted epistle.
Now when his favorite came in, happy and eager to greet him, he
suddenly decided that he would keep that letter to himself for a time,
until he had written to some other of the girl's friends and found out
more about the matter.
"Did you send for me, dear Bishop?"
"Well, yes, little girl, I did. There was something I wanted to talk
to you about, but I've changed my mind and decided to put it off for
the present;" he answered with a kindly smile that was less bright
than usual. So that the sensitive girl was alarmed and asked:
"Is it something that I've done but ought not?"
"Bless your bonny face, no, indeed. No, Miss Betty the second, I have
no fault to find with you. Rather I am greatly delighted by all your
reports. Just look out of window a minute--what do you see?"
Dorothy still wondered why she had been summoned, but looked out as
she had been bidden.
"Why, it's snowing! My, how fast, and how all of a sudden! When we
were out for exercise the sun was shining bright."
"The sun is always shining, dear child, even though clouds of trouble
often obscure it. Always remember that, little Dorothy, no matter what
happens."
Then he dropped what the schoolgirls called his "preachy manner" and
asked:
"How do you like tobogganing?"
"Why--why, of course I don't know. I've never even seen a toboggan,
except in pictures. They looked lovely."
"Lovely? I should say, but the real thing far lovelier. Miss
Tross-Kingdon, here, knows my opinion of tobogganing. The finest sport
there is and one that you unfortunate southerners cannot enjoy in your
native land. Up here we have everything delightful, ha, ha! But you'll
have to be equipped for the fun right away. Will you see to it, Miss
Muriel, that Dorothy has a toboggan rig provided? For Michael will
have the slides ready, you may be sure. He was born a deal further
north even than this and snow-and-ice is his native element. Why, the
honest old fellow can show several prizes he won, in his younger days,
for skating, ice-boating, tobogganing, and the like. I always feel
safe when Michael is on hand at the slide to look after his 'young
leddies.'
"Now, I must go. I have a service in town, to-night, and if I don't
hurry I'll be caught in this blizzard. You run along, 'Betty' and
spread the news of the grand times coming."
With a gentle pat of the little hand he held he thus dismissed her,
and inspired by his talk of the--to her--novel sport, she ran happily
away, forgetful already of anything more serious.
"Oh! girls! the Bishop says we'll soon have tobogganing!" she cried,
joining a group gathered about a great wood fire in the library.
"Oh! goody! I was looking at my new suit this very morning. Mother's
had such a pretty one made for me, a blanket suit of baby blue with
everything to match--mittens and cap and all! I'm just wild to wear
it!" answered Fanny Dimock, running to the window to peer out.
"To-morrow's half-holiday. Let's all go help Michael to get the slides
ready!"
"Of course--if the storm will let us out! Oh glorious!" said Ernesta
Smith flying to Fanny's side, and trying to see through the great
flakes, fast packing against the pane and hiding the view without.
But this only increased the gayety within. Electric lights flashed
out, girl after girl ran to fetch her own coasting suit and to spread
it before the eyes of her mates.
"Oh! aren't they the sweetest things!" exclaimed the delighted
Dorothy; "the very prettiest clothes I ever saw!"
Indeed they did make a fine show of color, heaped here and there,
their soft, thick texture assuring perfect protection from cold. Reds
and greens, pinks and blues, and snowy white; some fresh from the
makers' hands, some showing the hard wear of former winters; yet
all made after the Oak Knowe pattern. A roomy pair of pantaloons,
to draw over the ordinary clothing from the waist down, ended in
stocking-shaped feet, fitted for warm wool overshoes. The tunic fell
below the knees and ended above in a pointed hood, and mittens were
made fast to the sleeves.
"Lovely, but isn't it terribly clumsy?" asked Dorothy, more closely
examining one costume.
"Let's show her! Let's have an Indian dance! Hurry up, everybody, and
dress!"
In a jiffy every girl who owned a costume got into it and the place
was transformed. For somebody flew to the piano and struck up a lively
waltz, and away went the girls, catching one another for partner--no
matter who--whirling and circling, twisting bodies about, arms
overhead, as in a regular calisthenic figure--till Dorothy was amazed.
For what looked so thick and clumsy was too soft and yielding to
hinder grace.
In the midst of the mirth, the portieres were lifted and Gwendolyn
came in. It was unfortunate that just then the music ended with a
crash and that the whirling circles paused. For it looked as if her
coming had stopped the fun, though this was far from true.
Ever since that day of her open confession her schoolmates had
regarded her with greater respect than ever before. Most of them
realized how hard that confession had been for so haughty a girl, and
except for her own manner, many would have shown her marked affection.
When she had ceased speaking on that day an awkward silence followed.
If she had expected hand-claps or applause she failed to get either.
The listeners were too surprised to know what to do, and there was
just as much pride in the young "Peer's" bearing as of old. After a
moment of waiting she had stalked away and all chance for applause was
gone.
But she had returned to her regular classes the next morning and mixed
with the girls at recreation more familiarly than she had formerly
done; yet still that stiffness remained.
For half-minute, Gwendolyn hesitated just within the entrance, then
forced herself to advance toward the fireplace and stand there warming
herself.
"It's getting very cold," she remarked by way of breaking the
unpleasant silence.
"Yes, isn't it!" returned Winifred; adding under her breath: "Inside
this room, anyway."
"We're warm enough, dressed up like this," said Marjorie, pleasantly.
"Dorothy says that the Bishop thinks we'll have tobogganing in a day
or two, if the snow holds. She's never seen a toboggan nor how we
dress for the sport, and we brought in our togs to show her. She
thinks they look too clumsy for words, so we've just been showing her
that we can move as easily in them as without them. But--my! It's made
us so warm!"
Gwendolyn turned toward Dorothy with a smile intended to be cordial,
and asked:
"Is that so, indeed? Then I suppose you'll have to get a rig like ours
if you want to try the slide."
"Yes, I suppose so. The Bishop asked the Lady Principal to get me one,
but I don't suppose she can right away. Nobody could go shopping in
such weather, and I suppose they have to be bought in town."
"The blankets are bought there, but usually the suits are made at home
before we come; or else by the matron and some of the maids here. I--"
A look of keener interest had come into her face, but she said nothing
further and a moment later went out again.
As the portieres fell together behind her, Winifred threw up her hands
in comic despair.
"Whatever is the matter with that girl? or with _me_--or _you_--or
_you_!" pointing to one and another around her. "She wants to be
friendly--and so do we! But there's something wrong and I don't know
what."
"I do," said a sweet-faced "Seventher," who had been quietly studying
during all this noise. "Poor Gwendolyn is sorry but isn't one bit
humble. She's absolutely just and has done what she believed right.
But it hasn't helped her much. She's fully as proud as she ever was,
and the only way we can help her is by loving her. We've _got_ to love
her or she'll grow harder than ever."
"You can't make love as you'd make a--a pin-cushion!" returned Florita
Sheraton, holding up, to illustrate, a Christmas gift she was
embroidering.
Dorothy listened to this talk, her own heart upbraiding her for her
failure to "love" Gwen. She liked her greatly and admired her courage
more.
"Win, let's you and me try and see if that is true, what Florita
says. Maybe love can be 'made' after all;" she whispered to her
friend.
"Huh! That'll be a harder job than algebra! I shall fail in both."
"I reckon I shall, too, but we can try--all the same. That won't hurt
either one of us and I'm awfully sorry for her, she must be so
lonesome."
"'Pity is akin to love!' You've taken the first step in your climb
toward Gwen's top-lofty heart!" quoted Winifred. "Climb away and I'll
boost you as well as I can. I--"
"Miss Dorothy Calvert, the Lady Principal would like to see you in her
own parlor;" said a maid, appearing at the door.
"What now? You seem to be greatly in demand, to-day, by the powers
that be, I hope it isn't a lecture the Bishop passed on to her to
deliver," said Florita as Dorothy rose to obey.
But whatever fear Dolly felt of any such matter was banished by her
first glance into her teacher's face. Miss Muriel had never looked
kinder nor better pleased than then, as, holding up a pair of
beautiful white blankets she said:
"How will these do for the toboggan suit the Bishop wished me to get
for you?"
"Oh! Miss Muriel! Are those for me and so soon? Why, it's only an hour
ago, or not much more, since he spoke of it, and how could anybody go
to town and back in that little while, in such a storm?"
"That wasn't necessary. These were in the house. Do you like them?"
"Like them! They're the softest, thickest, prettiest things! I never
saw any so fine, even at Aunt Betty's Bellevieu. Do you think I ought
to have them? Wouldn't cheaper ones answer for messing around in the
snow?"
"The question of expense is all right, dear, and we're fortunate to
have the material on hand. Mrs. Archibald will be here, directly, to
take your measurements. Ah! here she is now."
This was something delightfully different from any "lecture," and even
Miss Muriel talked more and in higher spirits than usual; till Dorothy
asked:
"Do you love tobogganing, too, Miss Tross-Kingdon?"
"No, my dear, I'm afraid of it. My heart is rather weak and the swift
motion is bad for it. But I love to see others happy and some things
have happened, to-day, which have greatly pleased me. But you must
talk sliding with Mrs. Archibald. Dignified as she is, she'll show you
what a true Canadian can do, give her a bit of ice and a hill."
The matron laughed and nodded.
"May the day be long before I tire of my nation's sport! I'm even
worse than Michael, who's almost daft on the subject."
Then she grew busy with her measurings and clippings, declaring: "It
just makes me feel bad to put scissors into such splendid blankets as
these. You'll be as proud as Punch, when I dress you out in the
handsomest costume ever shot down Oak Knowe slide!"
"Oh! I wish Aunt Betty could see it, too. She does so love nice
things!"
When Mrs. Archibald and her willing helpers had completed her task and
Dolly was arrayed in her snow-suit she made, indeed, "the picture"
which Dawkins called her.
For the weather proved what the Bishop had foretold. The snow fell
deep and heavy, "just right for packing," Michael said, on the great
wooden slide whose further end rose to a dizzy height and from whose
lower one a second timbered "hill" rose and descended.
If the toboggan was in good working order, the momentum gained in the
descent of the first would carry the toboggans up and over the second;
and nothing could have been in finer condition than these on that next
Saturday morning when the sport was to begin. The depression between
the two slides was over a small lake, or pond, now solidly frozen and
covered with snow; except in spots where the ice had been cut for
filling the Oak Knowe ice-houses. Into one of these holes Michael and
his force had plunged a long hose pipe, and a pump had been contrived
to throw water upward over the slide.
On the night before men had been stationed on the slide, at intervals,
to distribute this water over the whole incline, the intense cold
causing it to freeze the instant it fell; and so well they understood
their business they had soon rendered it a perfectly smooth slide of
ice from top to bottom. A little hand-railed stairway, for the ascent
of the tobogganers, was built into the timbers of the toboggan, or
incline, itself; and it was by this that they climbed back to the top
after each descent, dragging their toboggans behind them. At the
further side of the lake, close to its bank, great blazing fires were
built, where the merry makers could warm themselves, or rest on the
benches placed around.
Large as some of the toboggans were they were also light and easily
carried, some capable of holding a half-dozen girls--"packed close."
Yet some sleds could seat but two, and these were the handsomest of
all. They belonged to the girls who had grown proficient in the sport
and able to take care of themselves; while some man of the household
always acted as guide on the larger sleds and for the younger pupils.
When Dorothy came out of the great building, that Saturday holiday,
she thought the whole scene was truly fairyland. The evergreens were
loaded to the ground with their burden of snow, the wide lawns were
dazzlingly bright, and the sun shone brilliantly.
"Who're you going to slide with, Dolly? On Michael's sled? I guess the
Lady Principal will say so, because you're so new to it. Will you be
afraid?"
"Why should I be afraid? I used to slide down the mountain side when I
lived at Skyrie. What makes you laugh, Winifred? This won't be very
different, will it?"
"Wait till you try it! It's perfectly glorious but it isn't just the
same as sliding down a hill, where a body can stop and step off any
time. You can't step off a toboggan, unless you want to get killed."
Dorothy was frightened and surprised, and quickly asked:
"How can anybody call that 'sport' which is as dangerous as that? What
do you mean? I reckon I won't go. I'll just watch you."
It was Winifred's turn to stare, but she was also disappointed.
"Oh! you little 'Fraid-Cat,' I thought you were never afraid of
anything. That's why I liked you. One why--and there are other
whys--but don't you back out in this. Don't you dare. When you've got
that be-a-u-tiful rig and a be-a-u-tiful toboggan to match. I'd hate
to blush for you, Queen Baltimore!"
"I have no toboggan, Winnie, dear. You know that. I was wondering
who'd take me on theirs--if--if I try it at all."
Winifred rushed to the other side of the porch and came flying back,
carrying over her head a toboggan, so light and finely polished that
it shone; also a lovely cushion of pink and white dragged from one
hand. This fitted the flat bottom of the sled and was held in place,
when used, by silver catches. The whole toboggan was of this one
polished board, curving upward in front according to the most approved
form, pink tassels floating from its corners that pink silk cords held
in their place. Across this curving front was stenciled in pink:
"Dorothy Calvert."
"There, girlie, what do you say to that? Isn't it marked plainly
enough? Didn't you know about it before? Why all we girls have been
just wild with envy of you, ever since we saw it among the others."
Dorothy almost caught her breath. It certainly was a beauty, that
toboggan! But how came she to have it?
"What do you mean, Winifred Christie? Do you suppose the Bishop has
had it made, or bought it, for me? Looks as if it had cost a lot. And
Aunt Betty has lost so much money she can't afford to pay for extra
things--not very high ones--"
"Quit borrowing trouble, Queenie! Who cares where it came from or how
much it cost? Here it is with your own name on it and if you're too
big a goose to use it, I shall just borrow it myself. So there you
are. There isn't a girl here but wouldn't be glad to have first ride
on it. Am I invited?" and Winifred poked a saucy face under her
friend's hood.
"Am I?" asked Florita Sheraton, coaxingly throwing her arms around
Dolly.
"Oh! get away, Flo! You're too big! You'd split the thing in two!"
said Ernesta, pulling away her chum's arms. "Just look at me, Dolly
Doodles! Just see how nice and thin I am! Why I'm a feather's weight
to Flo, and I'm one of the best tobogganers at Oak Knowe. Sure. Ask
Mrs. Archibald herself, for here she comes all ready for her share of
the fun!"
"Yes, yes, lassie, you're a fair one at the sport now and give some
promise o' winning the cup yet!" answered the matron, joining the
girls and looking as fit and full of life as any of them.
"Hear! Hear! Hurrah for 'Nesta! Three cheers for the champion cup
winner!"
"And three times three for the girl Dolly chooses to share her first
slide on the new toboggan!" cried somebody, while a dozen laughing
faces were thrust forward and as many hands tapped on the breasts of
the pleaders, signifying: "Choose me!"
The Bishop was already on hand, looking almost a giant in his
mufflers, and as full of glee as the youngest there. The lady
Principal, in her furs, had also joined the group, for though she did
not try the slides, she loved to watch the enjoyment of the others,
from a warm seat beside the bonfire.
While Dorothy hesitated in her choice, looking from one to another of
the merry, pleading faces about her, Gwendolyn Borst-Kennard stood a
little apart, watching with keen interest the little scene before her,
while the elder members of the group also exchanged some interested
glances.
"Count us! Count us! That's fair! Begin: 'Intry, mintry, outry, corn;
wire, brier, apple, thorn. Roly, poly, dimble-dee;--O--U--T spells Out
goes SHE!'"
Over and over, they laughingly repeated the nonsense-jingle, each girl
whom the final "she" designated stepping meekly back with pretended
chagrin, while the "counting out" went on without her. The game
promised to be so long that the matron begged:
"Do settle it soon, young ladies! We're wasting precious time."
Dorothy laughed and still undecided, happened to glance toward
Gwendolyn, who had made no appeal for preference, and called out:
"Gwen, dear, will you give me my first lesson? I choose Gwendolyn!"
It was good to see the flush of happiness steal into Gwen's face and
to see the smile she flashed toward Dorothy. Stepping forward she
said:
"Thank you, dear. I do appreciate this in you, and you needn't be
afraid. The Lady Principal knows I can manage a toboggan fairly well,
and this of yours seems to be an exact copy of my own that I've used
so long."
Other cheers followed this and in a moment the whole party had spread
over the white grounds leading to the great slide, the good Bishop
following more slowly with the other "grown-ups," and softly clapping
his mittened hands.
"Good! Fine! I like that. Dorothy has ignorantly done the one right
thing. If she could only guess the secret which lies under all how
thankful she would be that she made this choice and no other."