"And cross," Kit says.
"You did use to cry—sometimes; and then at others you were like a little lamb. All children cry occasionally."
Dot felt, somehow, as if she had not outgrown the trick yet; but the tears fell close to Hal's heart.
"But about the Christmas?"
"Oh, yes!"
Then Hal began. The preparations beforehand, the secrecy and plotting, the stockings stuffed to overflowing, and the wildest of merriment the next morning. It appeared to Dot that she could see it like a picture.
"And O Hal, that we should be so lonely now! Hasn't God let us slip out of his mind for a little while?"
"I think not, my darling."
"But how can you always believe? Why did God let Joe die, when we wanted him so much; and Flossy go away? And all the other things,—the sweet pretty flowers that were frozen?"