Christmas for Lucy and her mother did not seem very merry, and Marian's words wakened more sad thoughts than bright ones for the moment in their hearts. It would be the first Christmas in Lucy's lifetime that Bob had not been home. Even in his plebe year at West Point he had worked hard enough to get two days off and had come home in a blinding snow-storm. It seemed dreadful to Lucy to celebrate gayly without him, and only her mother's reminder that William ought not to be so disappointed had made her look forward to Christmas with any real interest. The part she had most enjoyed was getting a big box sent to Bob a week ago, with every good thing in it that she could remember he liked, or that bore any reasonable chance of reaching there in eatable condition. She had made five pounds of fudge, standing over the stove until Margaret exclaimed in alarm at her hot, flushed cheeks, and came to take the spoon out of her hand. But the fudge was good, and so was everything else that went in the box, and if only Lucy could have taken it over to France herself and handed it safely to Bob she would have been satisfied.
She was on the point of saying now, "I wonder if Bob will get that box all right," but she checked herself abruptly and said, instead, "Come on, Marian, if we wait any longer it will be cold and horrid outdoors. Let's go now."
"I wouldn't go far; it really looks like snow," remarked Mrs. Gordon, drawing aside the curtain.
"We won't, Mother. Perhaps we'll only go as far as Julia's," said Lucy, winding a muffler about her neck.
Marian was already wrapped in cloth and fur, and the two girls went outdoors and crossed the grass toward the Houstons', where the rising wind whipped at their clothes and almost lifted Marian off her feet, while she shrieked and clung to Lucy, alternating between fear and laughter.
"I guess we won't go out on the sea-wall to-day, said Lucy; "unless you especially wish to?" she added with a funny look.
"Br-r-r!" said Marian, shivering at the thought. "Why doesn't every one live in the South, I wonder? What's the use in having cold ears and a frozen face, and being nearly blown off your feet? I'm sorry for that sentry."
"Why, this isn't really winter yet—it's only cold for November," said Lucy, encouragingly. "Oh, Governor's Island is a nice, sheltered spot in mid-winter. It's not so cold as Fort Russell. There it's nearly always below zero. The only warm post we've ever been was at Fort McPherson, Georgia, and I was so little then I didn't appreciate it. Let's go right in. I can't wait while they answer the bell," she declared on the Houstons' door-step. "Julia won't mind."
Once the three girls were sitting comfortably in Julia's room nothing could tempt Marian outdoors again for a walk, and there they stayed until it grew dark and Lucy reminded her that the only way to get home was the way they had come. Julia loved cold weather, and was always amused at Marian's aversion to it.