She had small notion of the anxiety
Charlotte was suffering concerning her frail self.
"You must get the window replaced at once, my dear," she remarked,
sleepily, from among her pillows. "It must be really quite a storm.
I could feel the bed shake. Down here it seems quieter."
"Yes, Granny, much quieter. Go to sleep now, and make up for lost time."
Her charge forgot to ask her what she meant to do herself, and presently
dropped comfortably off into a deep slumber. Charlotte piled on wood,
making a rousing fire, and sat beside it for the rest of the night,
wrapped in a blanket in the winged chair. She shivered away the hours,
unable to become warm no matter how close to the fire she crouched, and
in the morning was conscious that she had taken a severe cold, quite as
might have been expected. But, as her chief anxiety was relieved by
finding that Madam Chase awoke apparently in as good condition as ever
and not in the least the worse for her exposure, Charlotte made light to
herself of her own ill feelings.
She struggled across the street in the morning to telephone a carpenter,
and as it was the dull season for workmen of his craft obtained one
immediately. He proved a conscientious person, who shook his head over
the ancient window frame and advised putting in a new one with a tightly
fitting sash.
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