"For heavens' sake! don't talk about that man!" she said.
Then mama and I laughed, and we had dinner. I had been up-stairs only a few minutes after dinner when I heard Margaret at the telephone again. I went down to learn what the trouble was. As I was going down I heard her say:
"It's impossible. A dog couldn't go out in a storm like this." Then after a moment, she added, "I said I'd do what I could," and then: "You needn't thank me. It's not on your account, d—— you!" She hung up the receiver.
"Who was that?" I asked. She answered savagely—she she had never spoken so crossly to me before:
"None of your business!" and slammed out into the kitchen.
The storm abated during the night, and by morning it had ceased; but the city was still snow-bound, though workers were out all night clearing the streets, and an army of snow-shovelers went from house to house as soon as daylight came. They began ringing our door-bell as early as six o'clock, and that awoke me; so I dressed and went down-stairs. Margaret was ahead of me. I went to the porch to get the papers, but she was irritable because I opened the door and let in the cold. She said she wished to goodness I'd stay in my own room.
At breakfast we were without the papers, and Margaret told mama they had not come. The storm had probably prevented their delivery. I said I didn't mind running out to the nearest newsstand, but she said:
"For heaven's sake! Nora, find something to amuse yourself with without chasing wildly round! Now the storm's over, that man Holmes will be here, and you'd better get ready."
So, though I thought we'd have some difficulty in getting a train,—none was running on time,—I packed the few things I intended to take with me.