Down, down, down came the flakes, as though they never meant to stop, and as one threw back one’s head to look upward at the millions of tiny feathers falling so gently, one seemed to float upward upon fairy wings and sail away, away into the realms of the Snow Maiden.
It was hard to keep one’s wits upon one’s work that day, and many a stolen glance was given to the fairy world beyond the windows of the recitation-rooms. About five o’clock the weather cleared, the sun setting in a glory of crimson and purple clouds. An hour later up came my lady moon, to smile approval upon the enchanting scene and hint all sorts of possibilities.
Lou Cornwall came flying into Toinette’s room just after dinner to find it well filled with seven or eight others.
“May I come, too?” she asked. “Oh, girls, if we don’t have a sleigh-ride to-morrow, I’ll have a conniption fit certain as the world.”
“Do you always have one when there is snow?” asked Toinette.
“Which, a sleigh-ride or a conniption fit?” laughed Lou. “You’d better believe we have sleigh-rides.”
“You’d better believe! I’ve been here five years, and we’ve never missed one yet. Do you remember the night last winter, when we all went sleighing and came home at eleven o’clock nearly frozen stiff, Bess? Whew! it was cold. When we got back we found Miss Preston making chocolate for us. There she was in her bedroom robe and slippers. She had gotten out of bed to do it because she found out at the last minute that that fat old Mrs. Schmidt had gone poking off to bed, and hadn’t left a single thing for us.”
“I guess I do remember, and didn’t it taste good?” was the feeling answer.
“You weren’t here the year before,” said Lou. “Sit still, my heart! Shall I ever forget it?”
“What about it? Tell us!” cried the girls in a chorus.