“De’ jes’ ain’ no sayin’ ’bout dat, Massa John,” she answered with a toss of her head. “I’se t’inkin’ ’bout dem po’ chillen.”
Margaret’s philosophy was decidedly original and a source of great amusement to the family.
Night came on calm and beautiful, innumerable stars twinkling in the heavens above. “The Laurels” stood calm and silent in the shadow of the mountain and from his chamber window Mr. De Vere looked out with feelings akin to awe. The world seemed dumb, frozen by the hands of grim winter; Nootwyck a city of giant snowdrifts. A few twinkling lights indicated that life was still there but the silence was of that muffled kind which makes one apprehensive.
“Oh, what untold sufferings this must have caused!” he reflected, tears starting to his eyes as he glanced in the direction where Shushan lay, and he thought of the young life among those snow-bound hills, there being devoured by a relentless foe. What a power for good he might have been! His very soul recoiled at the thought that one with Hernando’s fine feelings should be a victim to the most loathsome disease known and compelled to saturate his poor, disfigured body with the nauseating fumes of “Stinking Spring.” “Ah, well,” he thought bitterly, “this is one of the ‘mysteries.’”
Tired out, he retired early but tossed restlessly all night.
Thursday’s paper contained a pretty good description of the blizzard and at breakfast on Friday, Mr. De Vere read it aloud. It ran, “A genuine sample of the Dakota article, the severest storm ever known hereabouts. Nootwyck shut off from the outside world for nearly a week. Factories stopped, schools closed, and business at a standstill. All railways and highways blockaded. Snowbanks of dimensions heretofore existing only in the imagination.
“It won’t do any longer to talk of the snow-storms of ‘auld lang syne.’ The one of this week has eclipsed all previous records. Even those who, in the early part of the week, had ‘remembered’ greater storms are now fain to admit that they were mistaken, as inklings from the outside world begin to come in showing how complete has been the blockade over such a wide extent of country. No train since Saturday and here it is Thursday night, and there are good prospects that the embargo may last wholly or partially for several days longer. The limits of Nootwyck’s communication with the world about her up to Wednesday night were Wawarsing and Leurenkill. Nearly all the remainder of the highways are still completely blockaded, and it is doubtful if many roads will be opened up in a week yet. No mails have arrived since Saturday night. In fact, Nootwyck would be completely isolated from the rest of mankind were it not for the telegraph and telephone. So far as we can learn, the same condition of affairs exists generally over the State and New England. Fears are entertained that there may have been considerable loss of life attending the storm when the full particulars are made known.”
A loud ring at the door interrupted the reading and Reuben returned from answering the bell, with a telegram from Jack. It brought the welcome news that he and his family were safe in New York City and that they would leave for Nootwyck as soon as the tracks were cleared.
They had barely finished reading the message when another ring called Reuben to the door. It was none other than Dr. Herschel who wished to see Mr. De Vere on important business.
Mr. De Vere’s face blanched when told who the visitor was and he entered the library with an apprehensive face.