“Yes, my dear, I’ll feel better after some coffee,” said the old lady.
“The noise comes from there,” and Nan pointed, as she whispered, to the big front “spare,” or guest, room of the house.
“I’ll go in and see what it is,” offered Bert. “You shut Aunt Sallie’s door so she won’t get nervous.”
It was well Nan did this, for as soon as Bert opened the door of the guest bedroom, out blew a blast of cold air, followed by a cloud of snow. In a glance Nan, Bert and the smaller twins saw what had happened.
A big branch from a tree in front of the house had broken off and had crashed through the front window of the bedroom, breaking out all the glass. Through this opening the cold wind was blowing the snow, until there was a pile of the white flakes on the floor. The limb was not broken entirely off the tree, but hung by a few shreds of wood. It was as though it was on a hinge, like a door, and each time the wind blew the branch swayed to and fro, banging against the side of the house and on the porch roof, which extended across the front of the house, and beneath the guest-room windows.
“That’s what made the noise!” cried Freddie, pointing.
“And look at the snow on the floor!” exclaimed Flossie. “I’m going to make a snowball!”
“No you aren’t!” cried Nan, catching her little sister by the arm as she was about to dash into the room. “Oh, Bert, what are we going to do?” Nan asked. “The window is all smashed.”
“And maybe that branch will poke a hole in the side of the house,” added Freddie, as the wind, swaying the limb, banged it up against the window frame. There was no more glass left to break.
“I’ll soon fix this!” cried Bert. “I’ll get a hatchet and chop the branch loose. Then it won’t bang any more.”