She was just beginning to think that she had been foolish to start her cooking without knowing at all when he was going to return, when she heard a great stamping and scraping of feet outside, and in another moment Frank’s snow-covered figure darkened the doorway.
“Getting on with the breakfast? That’s fine!” he called.
“It’s quite ready: wherever have you been? I wouldn’t have imagined that anyone could find a thing to do outside on a day like this.”
“Oh, there’s always something to do. But I just ran up to the Sharps’ for a minute. I knew old mother Sharp wouldn’t keep her promise about coming down to-day. She’s all right, but she does hate to walk.”
“Well, I’m sure I wouldn’t blame anyone for choosing to stay indoors a day like this. But what did you want to see her in such a hurry for?”
“Oh, nothin’ particular; I sort of thought maybe you wouldn’t mind having a little milk with your tea on a gloomy morning like this,” he said shamefacedly.
“That was awfully good of you; thank you very much,” she said with real gratitude, as she thought of him tramping those two miles in the blinding storm.
“Do you think we are in for a blizzard?” she asked when they were at the table. To her unspeakable relief, she found that the one cup was intended for her; he had waved her toward the one chair, apparently the place of honor, contenting himself with one of the stools.
“N-o-o,” he said, “I don’t think so. It’s beginning to lighten up a little already. And besides, don’t you remember that I foretold a mildish winter?”
“I was forgetting that I had married a prophet,” she smiled.
But all through the day the snow continued to fall steadily, although the wind had died away and, at intervals, the sun shone palely. At nightfall, it was still snowing.
The day passed quickly, as Nora found plenty to occupy herself with. By supper time she felt healthfully tired, with the added comfortable feeling that, for a novice, she had really accomplished a good deal.
The whole room certainly looked cleaner and the pots and pans, although not shining, were as near to it as hot water and scrubbing could make them. Fortunately, she had a quantity of fresh white paper in her trunk which greatly improved the appearance of the shelves.
During the day Frank left the house for longer or shorter intervals on various pretexts which she felt must be largely imaginary, trumped up for the occasion. She was agreeably surprised to find that he was sufficiently tactful to divine that she wanted to be alone.
While he was in the house he smoked his pipe incessantly and read some magazines which she had unpacked with some of her books. But she never glanced suddenly in his direction without finding that he was watching her.
“I tell you, this is fine,” he said heartily as he was lighting his after-supper pipe. “Mrs. Sharp won’t hardly know the place when she comes over. She’s never seen it except when I was housekeeper. She doesn’t think I’m much good at it. Leastways, she’s always tellin’ Sid that if she dies, he must marry again right away as soon as he can find anyone to have him, for fear the house gets to looking like this.”