For a while she sat watching the log fire and talking to the Doctor in a desultory way while Mrs. Lawson continued to read. Then as the grandfather clock chimed ten, Laura Lawson laid down her magazine and stood up.
“I think I’ll go to bed now, if you don’t mind.” The half stifled yawn, sheer camouflage thought Dorothy, was nevertheless a masterpiece of deception. “I’ve a bit of a headache, so I’ll say good night.”
Doctor Winn and Dorothy got to their feet. “I’m for bed myself,” announced the old gentleman, “and in spite of the coffee you drank after dinner, I know you’re sleepy, Janet. Your chess playing toward the end proved it.” His eyes twinkled at her. “But in storm or clear weather, there’s nothing like the air of this Connecticut Ridge Country to make one eat and sleep. By the way, Laura, when do you expect Martin?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Doctor—he won’t be back tonight. He phoned me from town just before dinner, that on account of the blizzard, he had decided to stay in until tomorrow. If you need him sooner, he said to call up the Roosevelt. He always stops there, you know.”
“Yes, yes, but I shan’t need him, thank you.” He turned to Dorothy. “The railroad has taken upon itself to discontinue all service to Ridgefield,” he explained. “Branchville is our nearest station, and driving will be difficult tonight. There must be very deep drifts by this time.”
“I should think it would be mighty unpleasant to get stuck out in a blizzard like this. I’m glad I don’t have to go out into it. But in a way I’m thankful for the snow, because we ought to have a white Christmas, and it’s ever so much more fun.”
“Bless my soul! I’d entirely forgotten that Christmas comes next week. Well, this year we must celebrate the Yuletide in the good old fashioned way. Thank you, Janet, for reminding me.”
Good nights were said, and a few minutes later Dorothy was again alone in the Pink Bedroom. Or so she thought, as she entered. But at once she noticed that a single shaded wall-light sent a pleasant glow from the bay window, and curled up in the cushioned recess, Gretchen was reading.
Dorothy stopped short in surprise and the girl sprang to her feet. “Oh, Miss—Miss Jordan, Mr. Tunbridge told me to come and help you undress and get ready for the night. Of course I didn’t know if you would want me—” then she added in a whisper, “but he thought you might be sort of blue and I could cheer you up, I guess.”
Dorothy smiled at Gretchen’s pretty, earnest face. “Why, of course I want you, Gretchen. Tunbridge is very thoughtful. I’ve never had the luxury of a personal maid and I don’t know that I’ll ever feel helpless enough to need one! But if you want to stay and talk, I’d love it.”