The situation lost seriousness, and although each was
prepared to make a thrilling tale of it for the various family circles
when daylight came, nobody except Jeff really regretted the experience
of the night. When they reached Charlotte and the smaller sleigh, there
was a great chorus of explanations. She swiftly extracted Evelyn and
took her in beside herself.
"Indeed, yes, I'm warm, Mrs. Churchill," protested the girl. Her voice
showed that she was very tired, but her inflection was as cheerful as
ever. With a hot soapstone at her feet, a hot-water bag in her lap and
Charlotte's arm about her, she leaned back on the fur-clad shoulder
beside her and rejoiced. One thing was certain. She had had a real
Northern good time, with an exciting ending, and she was quite willing
to be tired.
With the wind at their backs and the fall of snow nearly ceased, the
party was not a great while in getting back to town. The clocks were
striking five when Charlotte, having put her charge to bed, and fed her
with hot food and spicy, steaming drinks, administered the last pat and
tuck. "Now you're not to open your eyes and stir until four o'clock this
afternoon," she admonished her, with decisive tenderness.
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