Patricia heard him give a sudden exclamation, ask one or two rapid
questions; then he hung up the receiver and came back to the library
door.
"Patricia," he said, "there has been a bad accident down at the
curve--the eastern express--they are bringing the injured up here to the
hotel. 'Phone your aunt for me; and remember, _you_ are not to
leave the house."
"O Daddy!" Patricia followed him into the office; but all he could tell
her was that it seemed to be a pretty bad affair, and that he was likely
to be away from home some hours.
"A sad Christmas eve for a good many, dear," he said, kissing her
good-by.
Patricia watched him, as he drove off a few moments later, through the
fast falling snow. Christmas eve--and down there at the curve! Patricia
choked back a sudden sob, as she went to telephone to her aunt, who was
down at the church, helping with the Christmas decorations.
Miss Kirby decided instantly to go right down to the hotel, where help
would be needed. And _she_ also warned Patricia that she was not to
leave home.
"But oh, I want to go, Custard!" the girl protested; "I know I could
help." She closed the library door; the sight of the Christmas-tree,
its gay ornaments glittering in the firelight, hurt her.
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