“Never mind, mother,” said Bess consolingly. “I’m a splendid fireman, and I will see to the furnace to-day. And don’t worry about the dinner. We’ll manage without meat and milk. Let’s see, we have some codfish, I know, and we will make coffee by the gallon, if necessary. I pity people who have no water in their houses. But I am afraid father will have a severe time getting home. The snow must be very deep.”
She opened the door to look out, but was greeted by a small avalanche of snow that came tumbling in upon her.
“Two feet on a level, I should think,” she announced, with an apparent unconsciousness of the wrathful countenance of Bridget, who stalked to the broom, and swept out the snow.
“Where is Fred?” asked Mrs. Carter.
“In the library. He is so nervous with the storm that I found he was getting no good from the lessons, so I stopped reading.”
“It is too bad to leave him alone,” said her mother. “You’d better go back to him.”
“Not a bit of it,” said Bess gayly. “You
