OUT OF THE SNOW
Charlotte woke the next morning feeling vaguely uncomfortable and
wondering what was the reason for it. Suddenly it occurred to her
that to-day she must see Ruth and must give a reason for not going
to Boston with her. To explain what she had done with the money was
out of the question, for Charlotte would have been more unwilling
to tell of the performance of a good deed than to confess that she
had done something wrong. If she gave no reason and simply said
she couldn't go Ruth might think she was going to use the money for
herself, and that would be unbearable. But, of course, it would be
enough to say that it was Melina's only chance to go in town, and
she couldn't disappoint her. The fact that her mother was still sick
in bed would be sufficient reason why Charlotte couldn't leave on
the same day.
Melina, herself, was cross, and worked as though she had a personal
grudge against every dish and piece of furniture she touched. The
twins and Molly were actually scared into silence, and forbore
to make their usual demands on her time and patience. Charlotte,
who understood, kept them and herself as much out of the way as
possible, and helped all she could so that Melina might take an
early train.
As soon as breakfast was over, Charlotte went to Mrs. Hamilton's
and found Ruth just getting ready for her trip to Boston.
"Why, Charlotte, you're surely not ready so early as this," she
said in surprise as her friend walked into her room.
"Why, no; the fact is I can't go to-day. Melina wants to go, and
mother is still too sick to be left alone with the children. I came
over early because I thought you might want to ask some one else."
"Oh, dear! Can't Melina wait till to-morrow? I'm dreadfully
disappointed." Ruth looked so reproachful that Charlotte found it
harder than she had anticipated.
"You see," she explained, "Melina wants to send something off to
her nephew in Maine, and if she doesn't start it to-day it won't
get there for Christmas."
"Bother Melina's nephew! I'd set my heart on having you with me
to-day, and you know why."
Charlotte did know why, and much to her own sorrow. "I'm sorry it's
happened so," she began, but Ruth interrupted her.
"It isn't really necessary for me to go to-day. Why can't we both
go to-morrow? We don't mind if the stores are crowded."
Poor Charlotte looked positively unhappy. In all the labyrinth
of thought through which she had wandered this exceedingly simple
solution of the matter hadn't occurred to her.
"Why, I might," she stammered feeling her way. "No, I can't," she
went on decidedly. "The truth is, Ruth, I'm not going to buy any
Christmas presents this year, after all."
"Oh," said Ruth coldly. "Then, of course, you won't want to go in
town."
"No, I think I'd better not. I'm sorry,--I can't explain."
"You don't need to explain. You have a perfect right to do as
you please, of course." Ruth's tone was so freezingly polite that
Charlotte almost shivered.
"I must run back home," she said at last with an attempt at
cheerfulness. "Would you like to have me ask Betty or Dolly to go
with you?"
"No, thank you," and Ruth busied herself in the tying of a bow
with such complete absorption that Charlotte felt that the best
and only thing she could do was to go. She was so absorbed in her
own disagreeable thoughts that she plodded along through the snow
with her head down, and almost ran over Joe, who was patiently
standing in the middle of the walk hoping for just that result.
"Why don't you warn a fellow when you are coming down upon him
like a ship under full sail, Charlotte?" he asked with pretended
indignation.
"Get right out of my way, little boy," answered Charlotte, with
assumed scorn. "I suppose now that vacation has begun you children
will be under my feet all the time."
Joe chuckled softly. He would have been disappointed if Charlotte
had answered in any other way.
"What's the matter with you, Charlotte?" he asked as she passed
him and he fell into line behind her. "You look as though you had
lost your last friend."
"I feel so," remarked Charlotte briefly, and in a flash was sorry
she had said it.
"I didn't think Ruth was that kind," Joe said after a pause.
"What kind? She isn't. There isn't anything the matter, and it's
all my fault. Ruth's all right, and I don't blame her a bit."
Joe grinned appreciatively behind her back over this mixed statement
of affairs. Then he said, "Good for you, Charlotte. You're all
right, too. What are you going to do this morning?"
"Shovel snow. It's the only kind of work that I really enjoy."
"Let me help. I like to shovel snow when it isn't in my own yard."
"Run off and play with the other boys," answered Charlotte ungratefully.
"I have the twins and Molly on my hands, and that will be enough
for one day."
"Don't be foolish and refuse a good thing when it's offered you,"
said Joe good-naturedly. "I'll help you amuse them."
"Well, come along in then, and read while I get the children ready.
Oh, they're out now," she added, as they turned the comer and saw
the twins, looking like industrious brownies, rolling a huge snowball
across the yard, while Molly was expending her artistic talent on
the building of a snow-man.
The clean snow-drifts, glittering in the sunshine, fired Charlotte
with the desire to play as she used to play when a child. "Get the
shovels, Joe," she commanded, "and after we've cleared the piazza,
let's build a snow-house and freeze it."
"And my man can be the man that owns it, out for a walk in his
garden," chimed in Molly, who had been too much absorbed in her
work to speak before.
"Nice weather for gardening," said Joe with a wink, as he started
after the shovels.
Work is a cure for many sorrows, and Charlotte felt her heart grow
lighter as she helped Joe cut great blocks of snow and pile them
symmetrically. Betty, who had wandered over to see Charlotte, proved
a most efficient helper, and Frank and Bert, driving by almost
hidden under the branches of a stately Christmas tree, shouted
their greetings and came back later to join in the work.
Both boys and girls worked hard, and the result was a snow hut
large enough to shelter a good-sized family of Esquimaux. An arched
doorway gave entrance to the interior, which was divided into two
rooms. It had taken a large amount of snow to build it, and really
much skill, for the day was growing warmer and it was almost
impossible to make the structure firm enough to stand.
"There," said Charlotte, as she stuck a tiny American flag just
over the entrance, "I consider that the finishing touch. Now if you
boys will come over this afternoon and freeze it it will probably
last for some time."
"What a short morning!" exclaimed Betty as the church clock struck
twelve. "I'm as warm as toast and as hungry as a bear."
"Come in and help me get out the lunch Melina left for us," begged
Charlotte, "and then we can rest till the boys come over this
afternoon."
The boys left in a cloud of snowballs, but Joe found a chance to say
softly to Charlotte as he passed her, "Feeling better, Charlotte?
You look it."
"Run along and don't be foolish," answered Charlotte disdainfully.
"Goodness! Melina must have thought she was going to feed an army,"
laughed Betty, as Charlotte brought out sandwiches, cookies, brown
bread and a plate heaped with the cunning apple turnovers for which
Melina was famous. "Doesn't everything look good?"
"Don't you want to make us some cocoa, Bettina? Yours is so good."
Betty laughed. "Of course, you sly old thing. You know I love to
show off on cooking, don't you?"
"Good reason why; because you're so clever about it. I wish I weren't
such a stupid about doing all the things a girl is expected to do,
and I truly wish I didn't hate it all so."
"You can do other things," answered Betty loyally; "things I'd be
only too glad to do if I could. You ought to have heard all the
nice things Ruth said about you the other day."
Charlotte's heart sank. The joy of working in the keen, clear air
had almost made her forget the unpleasantness of the morning. Now
it ail came back to her with a rush. Ruth would never again say
nice things about her, and there would be an end, of course, to
ail the delightful intimacy which had seemed to promise so much
pleasure for the winter.
"Charlotte, Charlotte, Irving is climbing on the table to get a
turnover," announced Molly in a tone of dignified disapproval, and
Charlotte came to the rescue just in time to defeat the plans of
the small pirate, whose schemes for getting what he wanted were
without end.
It was a jolly lunch, for they were all too hungry to notice Charlotte's
sudden depression, and the twins kept Betty in a perpetual state of
amusement. To Charlotte, however, the tempting food might as well
have been something far less appetizing, for the keen discomfort
she was feeling took away all sense of pleasure.
"I don't believe I want to work any more on the snow-house," she
said soberly, as she and Betty finished putting away the dishes.
"You and the boys can finish up if you like, but I'm almost too
tired to move."
"Well, I don't care," answered Betty good-naturedly. "I ought to
be working on my Christmas presents anyway, and I've had a pretty
good airing this morning. Can't you bring some sewing over to my
house?"
"Sewing! You know I hate it. I hate Christmas presents, too, and
I shall be glad when Christmas is over."
Betty gazed at her in such consternation that Charlotte couldn't
help laughing. "Don't mind me, Bettikins," she said penitently; "I'm
a cross, disagreeable thing, and I ought to know better, Only, if
you love me, don't say Christmas anywhere in my neighborhood, or
I shall certainly explode into some badness."
Betty looked puzzled, but wisely refrained from asking any questions.
"Don't make yourself out too much of a villain," she said with a
comforting pat, "for I shan't believe it, and I shall keep on liking
you just the same."
With a look at the twins and Molly, who were safely at work in the
snow, Charlotte went up-stairs to her mother, wishing in her heart
that she could take her troubles to her as other girls did to
their mothers, but knowing from long experience that nothing of the
kind was possible. Mrs. Eastman had been so long an invalid that
Charlotte could hardly remember the time when it had not been the
first object of her father, and later of herself, to spare her
mother every care and excitement. To-day was one of Mrs. Eastman's
better days, and Charlotte found her dressed and sitting by the
window when she went in with the tray.
"Why, mother, how good it seems to see you sitting up," she said
happily; "are you really feeling better?"
"Yes, really better; so much so that I thought I would give my good
little daughter a pleasant surprise when she came up to see me."
Charlotte looked at her mother with delight. It was many weeks
since she had heard that cheerful tone, had seen the blue eyes so
clear, and the sweet face so untroubled.
"Oh, Mumsey, you are so pretty when you don't have that horrid
pain," she said, setting the tray on the table and kneeling down
to rest her head on her mother's knee.
Mrs. Eastman laughed softly, and patted the tired head with a
tender hand. "I'm glad I look pretty to you," she said. "But where
are Molly and the twins?"
"Out in the yard digging in the snow. The boys and Betty were here
this morning, and we made a grand snow-house, but no one has come
back to finish up." Charlotte looked out as she spoke and opened
the window a crack to remind Irving that he couldn't prance around
on top of the snow-house, because it wasn't strong enough yet for
such treatment.
"Don't you believe you'll be able to come down-stairs pretty soon?
Perhaps you can be with us on Christmas Day; oh, Mumsey," and
Charlotte glowed with delighted anticipation. "It won't make so
very much difference, after all," she added soberly, "for Christmas
won't be much different from any other day."
"Yes, it will; it shall, darling," said Mrs. Eastman. "I know we
can't spend much money for presents, but we'll trim the house, and
we'll have popcorn and apples and--"
Just what her mother intended to add Charlotte never knew, for
a wild shriek from the yard made her rush to the window in terror.
At first she could not tell what had happened. Then she realized that
Molly was dancing wildly around wringing her hands, that Irving's
startled face and sturdy shoulders were emerging from the ruins of
the snow-house, and that no one else was in sight.
"Stanley, where is Stanley?" she called, opening the window wide.
"Under the snow," shrieked Molly. "He can't get out, he can't get
out."
Charlotte said afterward that she never felt sure whether she went
out of the window or over the stairs. She realized only that some
one came swiftly behind her and she screamed, "Go back, go back;
I'll get him out."
But the figure kept silently on, and, before Charlotte could prevent,
her mother was pulling Irving with all her strength.
"Help me lift him," she cried piteously; "my other baby is under
all this snow."
No one knew better than Charlotte the weight of snow which had
fallen on poor Stanley, and she felt sick with terror as they at
last set Irving on his feet.
"Run for Dr. Holland, Molly, and tell the neighbors to come here,"
she said in a voice sharp with fear. Then she seized a shovel which
lay near and began to lift off the snow with a care and slowness
which made her mother frantic,
"Give me the shovel, Charlotte; my baby will smother while you work
so slowly."
"Stop, mother," answered Charlotte. "We may hurt him if we use the
shovel any more. Now I must use my hands."
It seemed hours before Charlotte, plunging in the snow and throwing
it aside with her arms and her whole body, felt the touch of her
brother's coat. And then still hours before she could draw out the
limp, little body.
"Give him to me," cried Mrs. Eastman snatching him to her breast,
and running toward the house. "Get hot water, Charlotte, and
blankets." Charlotte tried to run, but couldn't. She was vaguely
conscious that a sleigh had stopped outside the gate, that figures
were hurrying toward the house, that Joe, looking exceedingly red
and anxious but withal rather indistinct, had almost reached her,
and then she forgot everything.
When she opened her eyes she was on the library sofa, and Mrs.
Hamilton and Betty were smiling reassuringly at her. She looked
at them a moment without speaking, and then all that had happened
came sharply back to her.
"Where is Stanley?" she cried, starting up in alarm.
"Stanley is all right, dear," answered Mrs. Hamilton, putting a
restraining hand on her shoulder. "Dr. Holland says that by to-morrow
he won't know that anything has happened to him."
"And mother? She was out there in the cold and snow."
"She says it hasn't hurt her a bit and she will insist on staying
up to take care of Stanley. Truly they are all right, Charlotte,
and you mustn't worry." Betty's tone was so motherly and insistent
that Charlotte couldn't help smiling. She closed her eyes sleepily
and didn't even trouble to open them when she felt herself lifted
from the sofa and carried up-stairs.
When she awoke it was quite dark in the room except for the light
from the open fire. She could hear in the sitting-room a subdued
murmur of voices, and now and then Irving's giggle, promptly
suppressed by the stern Molly. As she lay there in drowsy comfort
Melina stole into the room and coming softly to the bed peered
sharply at her.
"Hullo," said Charlotte with a suddeness that made Melina jump.
"What time is it, and how is every one?"
"Goodness, I thought you was asleep. They're all right. I've just
made your ma go to bed, though she declares she never felt better
in her life. Stanley's sitting up on the sofa with the pillows ail
around him, feeling like a little king, and Molly's proud as Punch
to be nurse. Now what would you like for your supper?"
"My! Is it supper-time? Oh, bring me anything good. You know what
I like."
"There's a girl in the kitchen--the one that's staying with Mrs.
Hamilton. She wanted I should come up to see how you are, and she
says she'll come to see you just as soon as you want her."
"Oh, ask her to come now, Melina, please. I feel quite well enough
to see her."
Melina began to protest, but Charlotte's eagerness conquered, and
she went grumbling down-stairs to call Ruth.
"Oh, Charlotte, you're a dear to let me come and tell you how mean
I feel. I don't believe I should have slept to-night if I couldn't
'fess up' to somebody."
Charlotte looked at her in astonishment and Ruth went on, "You see
I know all about what you did with the money, for Melina sat with
me coming out on the train."
"Melina told you!" said Charlotte, hardly able to believe her own
ears.
"Yes, I remembered her face and said something to her. She was so
full of joy over having sent the bed off to her nephew that before
she knew it she had told me all about him, and about the five
dollars, too."
"She probably won't tell anything again in a hundred years,"
murmured Charlotte, looking so embarrassed and uncomfortable that
Ruth couldn't help seeing it.
"You're a funny girl to be so ashamed of your good deeds. But,
honestly, Charlotte, I'll never tell if you don't want me to. I'm
simply bowed down with shame myself to think I was so mean and
hateful this morning."
"Oh, that's ail right, Ruth," said Charlotte warmly, "and I'm not
going to be horrid about Christmas any more. I think this will be
the happiest one I've ever had."