And now they came streaming over the countryside, big boys with their little sisters beside them, big girls with their little brothers. Some on sleds and some sliding. All rosy-cheeked with the coldness of the morning.
As they filed in, Anne stood behind her desk. They had opening exercises, and then the work of the day began.
It began scrappily. Nobody had his mind upon it. The children were much excited over the events of the preceding night—over the play and the feast which had followed.
Anne, too, was excited. On the way to school she had met Richard, and he had joined her and had told her of his first patient.
"I had to walk at one o'clock in the morning. I must get a horse or a car. I am not quite sure that I ought to afford a car. And I like the idea of a horse. My grandfather rode a horse."
"Are you going to do all the things that your grandfather did?"
He was aware of her quick smile. He smiled back.
"Perhaps. I might do worse. He made great cures with his calomel and his catnip tea."
"Did you cure your patient with catnip tea?"
"Last night? No. It was a child. Measles. I told the rest of the family to stay away from school."