But at half-past-one there was still no sign of the sleighing party.
Moreover, the storm was steadily increasing; it had become what is known
as a "blizzard." Even in the protected suburban street the drifts were
beginning to show size, and the arc-light at the corner was almost lost
to view through the downfall.
Charlotte turned to her husband with something like imperiousness in her
manner, and met the same decision in his look. Before she could speak he
said:
"Yes, I'll go to meet them. It does look as if they might be stalled
somewhere. It's rather a lonely road till they reach the railroad, and
it's possible they've missed the way."
He went to the telephone.
"Andy," cried Charlotte, following him, "order a double sleigh, please!
I must go with you."
He turned and looked at her, hesitating. "It isn't necessary, dear. I'll
go over and wake up Just, I think. We two will be--"
"I must go," she interrupted. "I couldn't endure to wait here any
longer. And if Evelyn should be very much chilled she'll need me to look
after her. Besides--"
He smiled at her. "You won't let me get lost in a snow-drift myself
without you."
She nodded, and ran away to make ready. By the time the livery-stable
had been awakened from its early morning apathy, and had sent round the
double sleigh with the best pair of horses in its stalls, the party was
ready.
Just, awakened by snowballs thrown in at his open window, had joyfully
dressed himself. At the last moment Charlotte had thought of the
automobile headlight, and this, hurriedly filled and lighted, streamed
out over the snow as the three jumped into the sleigh. All were warmly
dressed, and Charlotte had brought many extra wraps, as well as a supply
of medicines for a possible emergency of which she did not like to
think.
"Julius Caesar, but this is a night!" came from between Just's teeth, as
the sleigh reached the end of the suburban streets and made the turn
upon the open country road. He clutched at his cap, pulling it still
farther down over his ears. "What a change in six hours!"
"This is a straight nor'easter," answered Doctor Churchill, slapping
hands already chilled, in spite of his heavy driving gloves. Then he
turned his head. "Can't you keep well down behind us, Charlotte?" he
called over his shoulder.
"I'm all right!" she called back. One had to shout to be heard in the
roar of the wind.
After that nobody talked, except as Just from time to time offered to
drive, to give Andrew's hands a chance to warm. That young man, however,
would not give over the reins to anybody. It was not for nothing that he
had been driving over this country, under all possible conditions of
weather, for nearly five years.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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