re freezing."

"You bet we're the Fernald family--every man-Jack of us--not one
missing."

"Oh, Marietta--you dear old thing!"

"Hurry up--this is their side of the house."

"_Sh-h-h_--"

"Carol, your _sh-h-ishes_ would wake the dead!"

[Illustration: "STUMBLING OVER THEIR OWN FEET AND BUNDLES ... THE CREW
POURED INTO THE WARM KITCHEN"]

Stumbling over their own feet and bundles in the endeavour to be
preternaturally quiet, the crew poured into the warm kitchen. Bearded
Oliver, oldest of the clan; stout Edson, big Ralph, tall and slender
Guy--and the two daughters of the house, Carolyn, growing plump and
rosy at thirty; Nan, slim and girlish at twenty-four--they were all
there. Marietta heaved a sigh of content as she looked them over.

"Well, I didn't really think you'd get here--all of you. Thank the
Lord, you have. I s'pose you're tearin' hungry, bein' past 'leven. If
you think you can eat quiet as cats, I'll feed you up, but if you're
goin' to make as much rumpus as you did comin' round the corner o' the
wood-shed I'll have to pack you straight off to bed up the back
stairs."

They pleaded for mercy and hot food. They got it--everything that
could be had that would diffuse no odour of cookery through the
house. Smoking clam-broth, a great pot of baked beans, cold meats, and
jellies--they had no reason to complain of their reception. They ate
hungrily with the appetites of winter travel.

"Say, but this is great," exulted Ralph, the stalwart, consuming a
huge wedge of mince pie with a fine disregard for any consequences
that might overtake him. "This alone is worth it. I haven't eaten such
pie in a century. What a jolly place this old kitchen is! Let's have a
candy-pull to-morrow. I haven't been home Christmas in--let me see--by
Jove, I believe it's six--seven--yes, seven years. Look here: there's
been some excuse for me, but what about you people that live near?"

He looked accusingly about. Carolyn got up and came around to him.
"Don't talk about it to-night," she whispered. "We haven't any of us
realised how long it's been."

"We'll get off to bed now," Guy declared, rising. "I can't get over
the feeling that they may catch us down here. If either of them should
want some hot water or anything--"

"The dining-room door's bolted," Marietta assured him, "but it might
need explainin' if I had to bring 'em hot water by way of the parlour.
Now, go awful careful up them stairs. They're pretty near over