They heard a bolt drawn back and a key in the lock turned. Then the door opened slowly and an old woman peered out.
“Who’s there?” she asked. “What do you want?”
“Please, we’re caught in the storm,” said Polly. “May we come in and get warm?”
“Why, you’re children!” said the old woman, in astonishment. “Come in—come in. Though you can’t get warm, I’m thinking. I got out of bed to answer your knock, and there’s no wood in the house to make a fire.”
She opened the door wider and beckoned them to come in. They saw a square room, neatly furnished and evidently used as a combination sitting room and kitchen.
“You must be chilled through,” said the old woman. “I can fix a fire for you, if this boy will go out to the woodshed and get some wood; there’s plenty cut there, but I couldn’t go out in the storm. My rheumatism took me this afternoon, and I had to go to bed.”
“There are four more of us, waiting in a barn,” explained Polly, as Fred went out to find the woodshed, carrying a lantern the old woman gave him. “We were out skating this afternoon and lost our way.”
“Dear, dear, you must be hungry, too! Now, if you could cook, there’s eggs in that bowl on the shelf and bread and butter and jam a-plenty. I have cold baked beans left over, too.”
The old woman could hardly walk, and Polly said at once that she would cook the eggs.
“Then let your brother build up a good fire and put a kettle of water on to heat, and you set the table and get the supper ready. I’ll tell you where to find things. I declare, I feel better already, having some one to talk to. And that fire feels good, too. I won’t be caught this way again; I’ll fill up my woodbox when I have a chance, and then when I’m flat on my back I won’t have to worry.”