They left for home again, on the early afternoon train, with ten or fifteen of the other girls, all of whom were, of course, in the highest spirits. Only Charlotte knew that they would not return to Miss Leland's after the holidays, and her sorrow at parting with Nancy was touchingly apparent in her effort to seem cheerful.
It was after four o'clock when the two girls, trudging up from the Melbrook station, through the snow, at length came in sight of the little brown house. The long red rays of the sinking sun threw the shadows of the bare trees across the unbroken white surface of the lawn; and the cottage, with its gabled roof, was silhouetted against the ruddy, western sky, so that it looked as if the light were radiating from it.
"Oh, Nancy!" Alma turned a shining face to her sister. "I don't much care what happens—it's home, and nothing can change that! Mother and Hannah's inside, and there's a fire, and it's all so snug, and safe, and loving!"
Nancy, who was gazing at the beloved little place with bright, dreamy eyes, and that tender smile on her mouth that always gave her face a singularly winning sweetness, answered:
"It makes me think of a picture I saw once—it was called the 'House at Paradise'—I don't know why. It was just the picture of a quaint little house, that seemed to be glowing from something inside of it—and perhaps because the house in the picture made me think of our home, I've always thought of this as 'Paradise Cottage.' Oh, my dear, let's run!"
It was not until after supper, when they had gathered around the fireside just as they used to, in dressing-gowns and slippers, that they opened the council of war.
"Oh, my dears, what can you do?" sighed Mrs. Prescott. "I had hoped for so much. It will kill me to feel that my daughters are forced to work for their living by my fault."
"I really do think that I'd sort of like to make some money," added Alma. "Of course I'm not fitted for anything in particular, but, do you know, I was just wondering why I couldn't get some position like that girl in Mr. Dixon's office.—Do you know what, she said that after the first of the year she expected to get a position in New York, and I'll bet my hat that I could get that very place!"
Inspired by this sudden idea, Alma sat bolt upright on the shabby sofa, and pursing up her lips, with self-satisfaction looked from her mother to Nancy, who promptly applauded.
"Brilliant! I remember her saying that, too. Let's go over and see Mr. Dixon to-morrow," said Nancy. "I don't see why I couldn't give lessons, you know, tutor children—like the two little Porterbridge girls, for example. Margaret doesn't go to school because she's so delicate, and I know that last winter Mrs. Porterbridge kept Dorothy at home with her. I might even be able to get up a little class. I don't look so awfully young, and lots of girls my age have done it. Miss Drinkwater at school told me that she had begun to help her father with his pupils when she was less than seventeen, and I'll be eighteen in March. I'd love it, too."