I ought to have been glad.  I was, although when Mrs. Dicky found they were all staying, and that she might have to live in the shelter-house the rest of the winter, there was an awful scene.  I was glad, too, every time I could see Mr. Thoburn’s gloomy face, or hear the things he said when his name went up for the military walk.

(Oh yes, we had a blackboard in the hall, and every morning each guest looked to see if it was wood-pile day or military-walk day.  At first, instead of wood-pile, it was walk-clearing day, but they soon had the snow off all the paths.)

As I say, I was glad.  It looked as if the new idea was a success, although as Doctor Barnes said, nobody could really tell until new people began to come.  That was the real test.  They had turned the baths into a gymnasium and they had beginners’ classes and advanced classes, and a prize offered on the blackboard of a cigar for the man who made the most muscular improvement in a week.  The bishop won it the first week, being the only one who could lie on his back and raise himself to a sitting position without helping himself with his hands.  As Mrs. Moody said, it would be easy enough if somebody only sat on one’s feet to hold them down.

But I must say I never got over the shock of seeing the spring-house drifted with snow, all the windows wide open, the spring frozen hard, and people sitting there during the rest hour, in furs and steamer rugs, trying to play cards with mittens on—­their hands, not the cards, of course—­and not wrangling.  I was lonesome for it!

I hadn’t much to do, except from two to four to be at the spring-house, and to count for the deep-breathing exercise.  Oh, yes, we had that, too!  I rang a bell every half-hour and everybody got up, and I counted slowly “one” and they breathed in through their noses, and “two” and they exhaled quickly through their mouths.  I guess most of them used more of their lungs than they ever knew they had.

Well, everybody looked better and felt better, although they wouldn’t all acknowledge it.  Miss Cobb suffered most, not having the fire log to curl her hair with.  But as she said herself, between gymnasium and military walks, and the silence hour, and eating, which took a long time, everybody being hungry—­and going to bed at nine, she didn’t see how she could have worried with it, anyhow.  The fat ones, of course, objected to an apple and a cup of hot water for breakfast, but except Mr. Thoburn, they all realized it was for the best.  He wasn’t there for his health, he said, having never had a sick day in his life, but when he saw it was apple and hot water or leave, he did like Adam—­he took the apple.

The strange thing of all was the way they began to look up to Mr. Pierce.  He was very strict; if he made a rule, it was obey or leave.  (As they knew after Mr. Moody refused to take the military walk, and was presented with his bill and a railroad schedule within an hour.  He had to take the military walk with Doctor Barnes that afternoon alone.) They had to respect a man who could do all the things in the gymnasium that they couldn’t, and come in from a ten or fifteen-mile tramp through the snow and take a cold plunge and a swim to rest himself.