"Yes, it will; it shall, darling," said Mrs. Eastman. "I know we can't spend much money for presents, but we'll trim the house, and we'll have popcorn and apples and—"
Just what her mother intended to add Charlotte never knew, for a wild shriek from the yard made her rush to the window in terror. At first she could not tell what had happened. Then she realized that Molly was dancing wildly around wringing her hands, that Irving's startled face and sturdy shoulders were emerging from the ruins of the snow-house, and that no one else was in sight.
"Stanley, where is Stanley?" she called, opening the window wide.
"Under the snow," shrieked Molly. "He can't get out, he can't get out."
Charlotte said afterward that she never felt sure whether she went out of the window or over the stairs. She realized only that some one came swiftly behind her and she screamed, "Go back, go back; I'll get him out."
But the figure kept silently on, and, before Charlotte could prevent, her mother was pulling Irving with all her strength.
"Help me lift him," she cried piteously; "my other baby is under all this snow."
No one knew better than Charlotte the weight of snow which had fallen on poor Stanley, and she felt sick with terror as they at last set Irving on his feet.
"Run for Dr. Holland, Molly, and tell the neighbors to come here," she said in a voice sharp with fear. Then she seized a shovel which lay near and began to lift off the snow with a care and slowness which made her mother frantic,
"Give me the shovel, Charlotte; my baby will smother while you work so slowly."