Only one light burned in the living-room as Penny stomped in out of the cold. Mrs. Weems, the plump housekeeper who had served the Parkers for many years, sat beside the hearth, sewing.
“I’m glad you’re home at last!” she exclaimed, getting up quickly. “You’ve no idea how worried I’ve been.”
“But Louise and I telephoned.”
“I couldn’t hear you very well. I barely was able to make out that something had happened to your car.”
“A major catastrophe, Mrs. Weems. Every tire was stolen!”
While the housekeeper bombarded her with questions, Penny stripped off overshoes and heavy outer clothing. Pools of water began to form on the rug.
“Take everything out to the kitchen,” Mrs. Weems said hastily. “Have you had your supper?”
“Not even a nibble. And I’m starving!”
As Mrs. Weems began to prepare a hot meal, Penny perched herself on the kitchen table, alternately talking, and chewing on a sugared bun.
“If you ever were lost in an Arctic blizzard you have a good picture of what Louise and I endured,” she narrated grandly. “Oh, it was awful!”