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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Where There's a Will"

Pierce go.
I plodded back with my empty basket. I had only one clear thought,--that
I wouldn't have any more tramping across the golf links in the snow. I
was too tired really to care that with the regular winter boarders gone
and eight weeks still until Lent, we'd hardly be able to keep going
another fortnight. I wanted to get back to my room and go to bed and
forget.
But as I came near the house I saw Mr. Pierce come out on the front
piazza and switch on the lights. He stood there looking out into the
snow, and the next minute I saw why. Coming up the hill and across the
lawn was a shadowy line of people, black against the white. They were
not speaking, and they moved without noise over the snow. I thought for
a minute that my brain had gone wrong; then the first figure came into
the light, and it was the bishop. He stood at the front of the steps and
looked up at Mr. Pierce.
"I dare say," he said, trying to look easy, "that this is sooner than
you expected us!"
Mr. Pierce looked down at the crowd. Then he smiled, a growing smile
that ended in a grin.
"On the contrary," he said, "I've been expecting you for an hour or
more."
The procession began to move gloomily up the steps. All of them carried
hand luggage, and they looked tired and sheepish Miss Cobb stopped in
front of Mr. Pierce.
"Do you mean to say," she demanded furiously, "that you knew the
railroad was blocked with snow, and yet you let us go!"
"On the contrary, Miss Cobb," he said politely, "I remember distinctly
regretting that you insisted on going.


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