“We can’t let the children go hungry,” declared Connie earnestly.
“That’s the way I feel about it,” said Miss Gordon. “On the other hand, the roads may be closed several days. If we share our supplies with the Stones, it means a sacrifice. We’ll have a very drab Christmas Day dinner.”
“I vote that we share our food with the Stones,” added Rosemary, and Jane nodded agreement.
Veve did not say anything, for as she was not a Brownie, she felt she had no right to vote.
“I’ll prepare a basket immediately,” Grandmother Gordon said. “I must check my supplies to see what we have left.”
By the time Mr. Stone came to the house with an armload of wood, the basket of food was ready. At first, he did not want to accept it, because he thought Mrs. Gordon would not have enough left for her brood of Brownies.
“Now don’t you worry about that, Mr. Stone,” she reassured him. “We’ll manage.”
Although Mrs. Gordon felt grateful to the man for feeding the stock and shoveling so much snow, she had not changed her mind one whit about Mrs. Stone. However, she could not bear to think of the family going hungry.
After Mr. Stone had gone, the Brownies had luncheon. Though the meal was a rather skimpy one, no one complained. Nevertheless, the Brownies felt increasingly blue, knowing that with the roads blocked they were unlikely to see their parents on Christmas.
“Do you suppose they’ll come to Deerford and just wait there?” Connie speculated. “Or will they decide not to leave Rosedale?”
Miss Gordon had no satisfactory answer for either of the questions. With the telephone still out of service, it was impossible to call the Deerford station or Mr. Gordon, who had remained at Goshen.
After the luncheon dishes were washed and put away, the Brownies, for the first time since they had arrived at the farm, did not know how to occupy their time.
It was too cold to play outside. In any case, the only place they could go was through the long trench of snow to the barn and the woodpile.
“If the attic isn’t too chilly, why not explore there again?” suggested Miss Gordon.
“Oh, yes, let’s!” cried Eileen. “May we dress up in the old clothes?”
“Use anything you like,” replied Grandmother Gordon.
The unheated attic was too cold for comfortable play. However, the girls made their selection of clothes and carried them down to the living room by the hearth.