A Christmas Conspiracy by Mary Chase Comstock Page A

strand and the rest fell away.
    “You see,” she said at last, “The past does matter—as much as the future.”
    * * * *
    Although the twins had every reason to have spent a sleepless night, the sun had risen high by the time Sally entered their chamber and pulled the curtains back.
    “Sally!” Tavie cried, suddenly alert. “Whatever time is it?”
    “Almost half past ten, and a beautiful day. They say the road is open all the way to North Umphish.”
    “Half past ten!” Genie leaped from the bed, pulling Tavie with her, snatched a large key from the table, and raced for the door. They flung themselves into the corridor, careened around corners, their night rails flying, and dashed for the door to the attic. When they reached it, they stopped in their tracks. The door stood open.
    Aghast, Tavie seized Genie’s arm. “If the road to North Umphish is open, we can pack our band boxes and be away—”
    “And do what?” her sister asked helplessly. “Hire ourselves as governesses perhaps?”
    “We certainly made a thorough enough study of the creatures. I daresay if we dressed like frumps—”
    “Oh, Tavie! It simply will not fadge. There is nothing for it but to be locked in our chamber for a week, eat black bread and water, and contrive a way to make ourselves so excessively charming our parents cannot but forgive us.”
    “We shall have wasted away to nothing by then,” Tavie said in tones of sore disconsolation, “to say nothing of missing Christmas. What’s more, now the road is open, that dreadful Miss Walleye will be here after all—and it is altogether likely even Mama will not champion us against her now.”
    “We must not give up hope yet,” Genie said stoutly. “Let us see if Mama is in her chamber. Perhaps we can explain.”
    The twins retraced their steps down the corridor with considerably less rapidity than they had traversed it a moment or two earlier. They were surprised when they reached the door to their mama’s chamber to find that the noxious Flops was asleep outside, emitting wheezing snuffles of distressing volume. At their approach, he opened one baleful eye, summoned a listless snarl, and went back to sleep.
    “Do you suppose,” Genie whispered, her sense of the ridiculous returning, “there is a way we can persuade them the dog is responsible?”
    “Only if our parents are vastly more stupid than is likely. What an inconvenience it is,” Tavie frowned, “not to have a younger sibling on whom to blame such things.”
    “What are you two about now?”
    The pair turned to see Sally bearing swiftly down upon them.
    “Oh, Sally!” Tavie cried. “It is all gone awry. Mama and Father have escaped!”
    “Yes,” Sally returned tartly. “They are escaped to your mother’s chamber where they have been these past two hours or more. I took the liberty of unlocking the attic door at dawn. If I had had an idea you would interpret my advice by exiling them to that frozen region, I should have minded my own business.”
    “What odd noises,” Genie said, ignoring Sally’s scolding and pressing an ear to the door. “Listen, Tavie. It does not sound in the least like they are merely embracing. You do not suppose they would do one another harm? Why, it sounds as if—”
    Sally took both girls firmly by the shoulders and turned them down the corridor. “I believe your parents do quite well,” she told them. “Let us go to your chamber and ready you for the day.”
    The girls followed Sally, casting many a curious glance over their shoulders. As Sally helped them to dress, they besieged her with numerous speculative questions about what their parents must be up to behind the closed door. All of these the maid decided had best be left to their mother when that lady had leisure to address such concerns.
    “I think perhaps we had best give them their gifts this morning,” Tavie advised as she tied a ribbon about her curls.
    “Yes, of course, but ought we say they are from us, or