"'Sh! 'sh! Molly. The boys are going down stairs to look, and I'm going too. Lie still."
But Molly was two years older than Petish, and she wouldn't lie still. She was out on the floor in a twinkling, and she made Petish wrap herself all up in a blanket, and she pretty nearly buried her own chubby shape in a comfortable.
That was about what Rad and Don had done already, and they were now carefully creeping down stairs in the dark.
The door of the front parlor was nearest the foot of the stairs, and the boys left it open after them when they went in, but Molly and Petish closed it very softly and carefully the moment they were safe in the dim, gloomy parlor. The boys were just beyond the folding-doors at that moment, and did not see that they were followed.
Berry was sound asleep in her crib, within reach of her mother, or she would have heard her say, just then, "Oh, John, it's a dreadful disappointment! What will those poor children do?"
"Poor Petish!" said Mr. Burnell. "We can explain it to the boys, and they can wait, and to Molly, but it'll be bad enough for any of 'em."
"But Petish'll break her little heart if she finds that Santa Claus hasn't come."
"It'll be almost as much of a disappointment to Aunt Sally and Frank. I hope they'll bring Mid with them when they come."
"Of course they will."
Now that had been a very long, white, beautiful, dark night, and a great many queer things had happened in it. They are sure to, in any "night before Christmas"; but there had been a wonderfully deep snow-storm.