“No, Morrie, you just keep still, and perhaps Santa Claus will come along and help us. He must have started by this time.”
“H’m! guess reindeers wouldn’t do much good. I wish I had my pony here. Why, Miss Amory, how cold your hand is! Why, you’ve been keeping that robe over me, and you’re right out in the cold. See the snow on her sleeve, mamma.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” interposed the little governess; but her teeth chattered, and it was an intense relief when she heard a new, strong voice just outside: “Where are they, Marston? In that heap of buffaloes?” After a moment’s pause, the robes were lifted, and before she could say a word the girl felt herself raised from the sleigh and borne along through the storm in a pair of stout arms, while the same cheery voice said: “Beg your pardon, miss, it’s the only way. The house is but a few rods from here.”
“Thank you,” she answered smiling, in spite of the cold, at her situation: “but I’m afraid I shall tire you!”
The young man said nothing, but gravely picked his way between drifts and treacherous hollows. Once he staggered, and nearly fell with his burden. She instinctively threw her arm round his neck like a child, to save herself, withdrawing it quietly a moment after. He plodded on in silence.
“He’s a gentleman,” she thought, “or he would have laughed or joked about it.”
Close behind them the men were following with those left in the sleigh, and the whole company were soon gathered around ’Lisbeth’s fire, exchanging comments, throwing aside their snowy wraps, and refreshing themselves with hot tea.