Do you go all together
in a big load?"
"Yes--a regular prairie-schooner of a sleigh. Holds a dozen of us,
packed like sardines, so nobody can get cold. We take hot soapstones and
rugs and robes, and we go only twelve miles, to a farmhouse where we get
a hot supper--oysters and hot biscuit and maple-syrup, and all sorts of
good things. You must go."
"If I only could!" sighed Evelyn. "I'm so afraid they won't think I
can."
"They will, if _you_ think you can," asserted Jeff. "You're up to it,
aren't you? You needn't do a thing. Six of the crowd are going to give a
little play. I'll get the load started home early, and we'll come back
flying. Be here by midnight at the latest. It'll do you good, I know it
will."
"O Mrs. Churchill!" breathed Evelyn, as Charlotte appeared from the
hall.
"O Evelyn Lee!" answered Charlotte, smiling back at the eager face.
"Yes, I heard most of it, Jeff, for I was coming down-stairs, and you
weren't exactly whispering. It's an enticing plan, isn't it?"
"Of course it is. And it's magnificent weather for the affair. Not cold
a bit and no wind; moonlight due if no clouds come up.
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