A few minutes after this little speech the subject of it quite unexpectedly came dashing in, bringing with him a great breath of February air.  He stopped in astonishment upon the threshold.

“If this isn’t the unkindest trick I ever heard of!” he cried, his brilliant eyes flashing from one to another.  “I suppose that arch-traitor of a Fieldsy planned to have you all safely away before I came home.  I’m thankful I got here two hours before she expected me.  See here, you’ve got to make this up to me somehow.”

“Sit down!” invited Captain Rayburn.  “You may hem steadily for two hours on flannel petticoats.  If that won’t make it up to you I don’t know what will.”

“No, it won’t,” retorted the doctor.  “Sewing’s all right in its way, but I’ve just put up my needle-case, thank you, and no more stitching for me to-day.  I want—­a lark!  I want to go skating.  Who’ll go with me?”

“By the process of elimination I should say you would soon get at the answer to that,” remarked the captain.  “There seems to be just one candidate for active service in this company—­unless Mrs. Fields—­I’ve no doubt now that Mrs. Fields——­”

“Will you go?” Doctor Churchill turned to Mrs. Fields.  She glanced up into his laughing eyes.

“Run along and don’t bother me,” she said to him.  “Take that child there.  She’s about got her stent done, I guess.”

Doctor Churchill looked at the curly black head bent closely over the last of the little sleeves.

“You don’t deceive me, Miss Charlotte,” said he.  “You’re not as wedded to that task as you look.  Please come with me.  There’s time for a magnificent hour before you have to put the kettle on.  Miss Birch, I wish we could take you, too.  Next winter—­well, that knee is doing so well I dare to promise you all the skating you want.”

Celia looked up at him, smiling, but her eyes were wistful.

“Doctor,” cried Captain Rayburn, “telephone to the stables for a comfortable old horse and sleigh, will you?  Celia, girl, we’ll go, too.”

“And I’ll look after Ellen,” said Mrs. Fields, before anybody could mention the baby.  “Go on, all of you.”

“May we all come back to supper with you?” asked Doctor Churchill, giving her a glance with which she was familiar of old.

“If you’ll send for some oysters I’ll give you all hot stew,” she said, and received such a chorus of applause that she mentally added several items to the treat.

“Now I can enjoy my fun,” whispered Charlotte to Celia, as she brought her sister’s wraps, and pulled on her own rough brown coat.  “Such a jolly uncle, isn’t he?”

“The best in the world.  Wear your white tam, dear, and the white mittens.  They look so well with your brown suit.  Tie the white silk scarf about your neck—­that’s it.  Now run.  I’m so afraid somebody will call the doctor out and spoil it all.”

Charlotte ran, and found the doctor waiting impatiently, two pairs of skates on his arm.  He hurried her away down the street.