aired, and a reinforced fire roared
in the little stove. One of the children had brought her a spray
of pine, and the spicy fragrance of it reminded her that Christmas
and the Christmas vacation were near; her mind was pleasantly busy
with anticipation of the play that the Pagets always wrote and
performed some time during the holidays, and with the New Year's
costume dance at the Hall, and a dozen lesser festivities.

Suddenly, in the midst of a droning spelling lesson, there was a
jarring interruption. From the world outside came a child's shrill
screaming, which was instantly drowned in a chorus of frightened
voices, and in the schoolroom below her own Margaret heard a
thundering rush of feet, and answering screams. With a suffocating
terror at her heart she ran to the window, followed by every child
in the room.

The rain had stopped now, and the sky showed a pale, cold, yellow
light low in the west. At the schoolhouse gate an immense limousine
car had come to a stop. The driver, his face alone visible between
a great leather coat and visored leather cap, was talking unheard
above the din. A tall woman, completely enveloped in sealskins,
had evidently jumped from the limousine, and now held in her arms
what made Margaret's heart turn sick and cold, the limp figure of
a small girl.

About these central figures there surged the terrified crying small
children of the just-dismissed primer class, and in the half moment
that Margaret watched, Mrs. Porter, white and shaking, and another
teacher, Ethel Elliot, an always excitable girl, who was now sobbing
and chattering hysterically, ran out from the school, each followed
by her own class of crowding and excited boys and girls.

With one horrified exclamation, Margaret ran downstairs, and out to
the gate. Mrs. Porter caught at her arm as she passed her in the path.

"Oh, my God, Margaret! It's poor little Dorothy Scott!" she said.
"They've killed her. The car went completely over her!"

"Oh, Margaret, don't go near, oh, how can you!" screamed Miss Elliot.
"Oh, and she's all they have! Who'll tell her mother!"

With astonishing ease, for the children gladly recognized authority,
Margaret pushed through the group to the motor-car.

"Stop screaming--stop that shouting at once--keep still, every one
of you!" she said angrily, shaking various shoulders as she went with
such good effect that the voice of the woman in sealskins could be
heard by the time Margaret reach