“W-w-well, here’s a big shawl,” stuttered Titus, bringing out a traveling rug. “I guess we’ll just wrap that round her after she gets in the sleigh.”
“It will cover all deficiencies,” said the Judge, “but how will you get her up to the stable in those thin slippers?”
Titus emerged from the closet and surveyed Bethany with a face flushed from exertion. “I guess I’ll have to carry her up. It isn’t far. Once there she’ll be warm enough.”
The Judge smiled and followed slowly as the two went down another staircase and opened a door leading to a back veranda. From there a plank walk led through the garden to the stable.
Titus manfully shouldered his burden on the veranda.
Bethany clasped her arms about his neck and smiled back at the Judge, who caught up to them at the stable door.
There was a furnace in the stable, and the air was warm and comfortable, so Titus allowed Bethany to slip to the floor.
“Is this where your horses live?” she asked, shyly, looking up at the Judge.
He nodded his head.
She continued to look about her. “I wish Mother Tingsby had been born a horse; it would be better for her.”