* * * * *
Alone together, after Randolph and Lucy had gone to bed, Andrew and
Charlotte passed the long evening. Charlotte was not willing to let
Evelyn come home to a closed and silent house, so the two awaited her
arrival.
"Why, Andy, it's snowing furiously!" said Charlotte, from the window,
whither she had gone at the stroke of twelve. Doctor Churchill put down
the book from which he had been reading aloud, and came to her side.
"So it is. Blowing, too. But it can't have been at it long or we should
have noticed."
"I've been noticing the wind now and then for the last hour. I hope it's
not grown cold. I wouldn't have anything happen to upset Evelyn's
improvement for the world."
"Nothing will. They'll be home before the half-hour. Come back and
listen to the rest of this chapter."
Charlotte came back, but as the quarter-hours went slowly by she became
restless, and vibrated so continually between fireplace and window that
Andy finally put away the book and kept her company.
"It's growing worse every minute." Charlotte's face was pressed close
against the frosty pane.
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