come to fill up the heater.
Could the fire have gone out? The question brought dismay. If she
could only get down cellar!

Her foot and ankle ached unbearably, and she tried to take off her
shoe; but it held fast. She pulled and pushed and twisted, gasping
with pain; the boot would not stir.

"Colonel Gresham would let Oscar come over and 'tend to the heater, if
he only knew," she muttered sadly--and then a hope popped up. She
would ring the dinner bell from a side window--perhaps some of them
would hear!

It was a painful journey downstairs, but Polly did not flinch. Again
and again the little bell sent its loudest appeal out into the stormy
night; but the merciless wind stifled its voice before it could reach
a kindly ear. There were snow wreaths in the ringer's hair, and tears
in her eyes, when she shut the window.

"I thought they must hear," she said sobbingly. Then, like a careful
little housewife, she shook the snow from her dress, and brushed up
the slush from the floor.

"I guess I'll go," she whispered. "Mother will freeze if I don't.
P'rhaps I can--I've got to anyway!" She caught her breath in pain.

Hobbling over to the kitchen shelf where the runabout lamp was kept,
she lighted it, and, supplying herself with matches and a small
shovel, she started for the cellar. In baby-fashion she went down,
sitting on the top stair and slipping from step to step. The light
threw shadows all about, grotesque and startling; but the little
figure kept steadily on.

The fire was very low. Polly gazed anxiously at the dull red coals.
The damper in the lower door had a bad habit of opening when it was
jarred. It was open now.

"Father was in a hurry this morning when he shut this door," she
explained to herself, "and I guess he didn't stop to look. That's why
it's burned out."

Slowly and painfully she fetched wood and threw it in the heater,
opening the draughts wide, and watching to see if it caught. Soon it
began to crackle and blaze cheerily, and, despite her loneliness and
her suffering, hope leaped in her heart.

"It will be nice and warm when mother wakes up--oh, I'm so glad I came
down!"

Yet it was dreary waiting for the moment when it seemed best to put on
the coal, and then she lingered still longer before she dared shut off
the draught. But at last her labor was complete. The pipes were
growing warm, and the heater could safely be left to care for itself.

Going upstairs was difficult and distress