“No,” said Harry, “I think they’re all about alike. I was caught out in one once.”
“Were you? Did you get lost?”
“Oh, yes indeed; my father was with me and we wandered around, it seemed for hours, till we saw a light and got to a farmhouse, miles away from where we thought we were. I was so stiff with cold I couldn’t walk. I was a kid then”—he hastily added, “and my father had to carry me to the house. He froze his ears and his nose that time.”
“Well, this is the most awful storm I ever knew,” said Miss Grey. “I feel now as if I should run away from this place as soon as my term is up.”
“Don’t,” said Harry earnestly; “you’re the best teacher we ever had—don’t go away!”
For some time not much was said between the two watchers. The children—most of them—slept.
“Harry,” said Miss Grey, after a while, “you didn’t answer my question of how long these storms usually last.”
Harry looked a little confused, for he had purposely not answered it, fearing to discourage her.
“Sometimes,” he said, hesitatingly, “it is over in a few hours, but sometimes,” he added more slowly, “one has lasted two or three days.”
“Oh!” cried Miss Grey in horror, “what can I do with the children! They’ll be hungry as bears when they wake!”