“That scared us half to death,” put in Helen, “but the boys massaged her hands with snow and Janet and I massaged the upper part of her body until we could get the circulation going again. I think she’ll be all right, but probably pretty sensitive to cold for the rest of the winter.”
“But the winter’s almost over. Here it’s late March. Who’d ever have thought we’d have a storm like this,” said Janet.
“If I had, I can assure you that you’d never have made the trip to Youde’s tonight,” promised her father. “It was one of those freak storms that sometimes sweep down from the Arctic circle and fool even the weather men. By tomorrow the temperature will shoot up and the snow will melt so fast we’ll probably have a flood.”
The girls finished every sandwich on the plate and drank two cups of tea apiece.
It was five o’clock when they left the table.
Mrs. Thorne and Helen started to put on their coats, but Janet’s mother objected.
“Your house will be cold and our guest room upstairs is all made up. Janet and I will lend you whatever you need. We’ll all get to bed now.”
Janet got warm pajamas for Helen and then went to her own room. Warm and inviting in the soft rays of the rose-shaded lamp over her dressing table, it was a sanctuary after the exciting events of the night.
A wave of drowsiness assailed Janet, and it was with difficulty that she unlaced and pulled off her boots. Somehow she managed to crawl into her pajamas and roll into bed, but she was asleep before she could remember to turn off the light.
Her mother, looking in a few minutes later, pulled the blankets up around Janet’s shoulders, opened the window just a crack to let in a whiff of fresh air, and turned off the light.