However, it did not soon stop. The small Bobbsey twins went downstairs from Mrs. Pry’s room, and the snow was still falling and the wind was still blowing. Not that the little twins minded this—they liked it all the more, snug and warm as they were in the house.
But Nan, getting the lunch and putting another flatiron on to heat for Mrs. Pry’s back, shook her head more than once as she looked out of the window.
“What’s the matter?” asked Bert as he noticed how serious his twin sister seemed.
“I’m beginning to get worried about mother and daddy,” answered Nan. “I don’t see why we haven’t had some word from them—a letter or a post card.”
“I guess the mails are late on account of the storm,” Bert remarked. “If we don’t get any to-day, and I guess we won’t, for I haven’t heard the postman’s whistle, to-morrow I’ll go down to the post-office and ask if there are any letters for us.”
“You can’t go if it storms this way,” Nan said.
“It will stop by to-morrow,” declared Bert.
With her brother’s help Nan managed to get up a nice little lunch for the family, consisting of some baked potatoes, an omelet, and some bread and preserves. She made toast for Mrs. Pry and took it up to her with a cup of hot tea. Flossie and Freddie begged to be allowed to help, so Nan let them carry the toast—each one had a slice wrapped in a napkin.
“They can’t hurt the toast, even if they drop it,” Nan whispered to Bert. But the small twins were very careful, and the toast arrived safely in the invalid’s room.
“You are very good to me, Nan,” sighed Aunt Sallie. “I think I will try and get around to-morrow.”