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After breakfast, there was a knock at the door. Mr. Carrisford outwardly wondered, "Who could be here so early?" Sara had a hunch, but before she could get up to answer, Ram Dass led Peter in.
He was shivering and covered in a thin layer of fresh snow, but shook it off as he drank a cup of hot milk. At Sara's request, a place was set at the table for him.
"I hope you head a pleasant morning so far, Mistress." Peter looked over at his employer, who giggled, "It has been, Peter, thank you. It's much better now that you're here."
Sara and Becky finished their breakfasts, and Mr Carrisford pointed out, "It's Saturday, you know. I suspect Ermengarde will come over, perhaps Lottie too."
"Lottie and a few other girls went home for Christmas, Uncle Tom, and don't usually come back until the 4th. But I don't think Ermengarde did." Sara interjected politely.
"Oh, yes... Still, the day is yours to do with what you like." He stood up and adjusted his plush wrapper, "I will have to catch up on more grown-up things before our trip to India."
"What kind of things, sir?" Becky looked at him in genuine interest, "oh, bills, the news, all those things. I'll be busy until supper." he smiled and took his came, walking to his office.
When he left, Becky looked at Sara, "Mistress, shall I get your coat?"
"For what, Becky?"
"I thought you'd like to go to the park, um... It looks so nice, all covered in snow, don't you think?"
Sara went slightly pale but shook her head, "I'd rather go on a day Uncle Tom isn't busy, Becky... Besides, I'd like to stay to greet Ermengarde."
"Oh! Y-yes, of course, Mistress..." Becky blushed, "still, shall I help you change I to your dress?" Sara, dressed in her morning gown, agreed.
They went up to Sara's bedroom, quite a good deal nicer than her parlor room at Miss Minchin's. Becky dressed Sara in a simple green marino dress with a matching hair ribbon. Becky herself was dressed in another, albeit navy, marino. Her dresses were now quite fine, though at her request were not as flashy.
"You look lovely, Miss..." Becky blushed a bit. After she helped Sara dress, she looked over to find Emily in her place on Sara's bed. The beloved doll was quite suited to this kind of life.
"Sara... Sara..." Bonaparte squawked out as Sara gave him his daily food and water. She giggled, "I shall let you out this afternoon. I'll make sure the room is warm for you."
Becky sat at the desk as she waited for Sara to finish her morning chores. Light, genteel chores fitting for someone of her status, of course. For last, Sara held Emily and sat her in a tea table chair with a book. Sara always insisted Emily liked to read, and no one would tell her otherwise. This time, Emily was reading one of the books the then-popular 'Elsie Dinsmore' series. Sara admits she doesn't enjoy the series herself, but was too polite to turn down the books, and freely lets Emily read them.
"Now, Becky, let's go into the parlor. I'm sure Peter is waiting." and they both left the room.
Downstairs, Ermengarde sits with Peter, drinking hot milk.
"Ah, Sara!" Ermengarde smiled, "I'm glad you're here! Well, you would be, you live here..." She laughed a bit at her expense and took another sip.
"I'm so happy you came, Ermie." Sara sat down, "Would you like any help with your lessons?"
"I hope not! I am still on vacation, and I don't wish to touch my lessons at all right now." Ermengarde sighed, "I'd much rather have a snowball fight, but the other girls are either gone or too grown up for such things."
"We could play with you, Miss Ermengarde." Peter nodded as Sara winced a bit. Becky noticed.
"Miss, are you alright? You look awful pale..." She put her hand to Sara's forehead to check for fever.
Sara shook her head, "I'm fine, Becky, really..."
The unintentional callousness of Sara's tone made Peter and Ermengarde look at her with worry. Sara never talked like that, even when forced to sleep in the stable.
"Sara..." Ermengarde looked up at her friend with worry, "You... What's really wrong? I know I'm not very smart, but I know something is wrong."
Ermengarde's pleading face made Sara breathe out in a sigh, "Please don't tell Uncle Tom this, his health is still quite frail..."
"Of course, Mistress." Peter took her hand on impulse, "we won't tell."
Ermengarde and Becky both nodded.
"The truth is," Sara began, "I dislike snow... You remember it was this time last year when I came to London for the first time. And it snowed when Papa went back to India... That was the last I saw him. It was also snowing the day Miss Minchin threw me out of the seminary." Becky and Ermengarde looked at each other, remembering that sad day, when Sara was kicked out after being accused of arson when, in reality, a lit lantern was dropped just outside the door.
"I know it's childish, but I see snow as a reminder of everything I've gone through..."
"It's not childish at all!" Becky passionately cried out as she hugged her mistress. Peter and Ermengarde shared her sentiments.
Sara hugged her back, "Don't let me stop you all from playing outside if you want to."
"It's not like you're there anymore, Mistress." Peter took her hand, "we can have fun together in the snow, if you want to. And whenever you want to go back inside, we'll go with you..."
Sara thought a moment, with a pensive look before replying "alright... I'll try." Becky got everyone's coats as they went outside in the garden.
It wasn't too large of a garden, but it had enough room for a few clotheslines, shrubbery, and a garden table and chairs. When first stepping into the snow, Sara's boots crunched the snow underneath her feet, making her shiver as she kept walking, reaching the fence within a minute.
Ermengarde showed Sara how to make a snowman, rolling one snow mass on top of another. It wasn't as quite as handsome a snowman as they would have liked, with its lumpy body and off-center eye pebbles, but Sara was quite proud of her efforts.
"Let's have a snowball fight!" Ermengarde suddenly shouted out, excited. Of course, there were two members to a team, to be fair. Everyone wanted Sara to be on their team, but she chose Becky.
Of course, someone had to show Sara how to make a snowball. Snowmen and snowballs are different beings entirely. It was decided that Peter, being the only boy, would show her how to make snowballs and to throw. (He assumed young ladies didn't know how to throw, despite Ermengarde's skill with the game) Once that was settled, the epic battle commenced.
Snowballs were flung left and right, hitting each other. Becky took almost every blow for Sara, who was still completely out of her element, but slowly getting the hang of throwing, managing to hit Ermengarde and Peter at least a few times.
One particularly bold snowball hit Sara straight in the face, and she collapsed into the snow. Everyone came to her aid, concerned as she just lay there, dumbstruck.
Of course, Sara smiled, and assured them she was quite alright. In fact, Sara hadn't this much fun in so long.
They spent the whole day playing, where they almost didn't hear the bell for tea. Ermengarde quickly excused herself, knowing she would be denied her supper if she was late. Peter also had to head home. He had to pick up some food from the grocer's on his way back.
This left Sara and Becky alone for supper. It was a simple supper of chicken soup, rolls and tea, but it was quite filling. Mr. Carrisford smiled at them over his newspaper, and told them to bundle up tightly when they went to bed.
After their baths and all the fires in the bedrooms were lit, Sara was changing Emily into a white gauze nightgown as she let Bonaparte fly around the room before bed, while Becky worked on needlework, a new hobby she now has plenty of time for.
"Becky?"
"Yes, miss?" Becky looked up from her project, already in her nightgown and robe.
"Could you sleep with me in my bed tonight?" Becky immediately agreed, and helped Sara put Bonaparte back in his cage to sleep.
When the clock struck ten, they both dimmed the lights as they crawled into bed, with Emily between them.
"Miss, did you enjoy the snow today?" Becky whispered low.
"I did, Becky... I enjoyed it so much..." She yawned and hugged Emily tight.
"I'm glad, Miss..." They fell asleep together, with more snow softly falling outside as the fire crackled low.