"P.S.—I forgot to tell you ime going to stay with Sylvy and Bubbles."
She decided that she would go to school and at recess she would slip out and be on the corner when the butterman drove by. She would leave her bundle with old Mrs. Wills who kept a small shop near the school. She felt distressed at leaving her other dolls and Nyxy, her little black cat, but she laid the former carefully away in a drawer, after fondly kissing each smiling face, locked the drawer and took the key with her. Nyxy she knew would be well cared for. Jessie was devoted to him and the cook was fond of cats, and therefore with a soft whisper and a loving pat, Eleanor bade good-bye to her furry pet the next morning and started out alone. She did not often walk to school with her cousins nowadays, for Olive usually stopped for Janet Forrester and Jessie had a friend about her own age who called for her almost every morning, therefore Eleanor was not observed as she stepped out with her bundle and hurried along to Mrs. Wills before the others started.
Mrs. Wills cheerfully took charge of the bundle, patted Eleanor's shoulder and gave her a cocoanut cake. Her little shop was beginning to show Christmas wares and it gave Eleanor a pang to think that perhaps this year there would be no mamma on hand to plan delightful surprises. The tears gathered in her eyes as she went on to school, stopping to mail her letter to Miss Reese on the way.
She arrived quite early and found the schoolroom empty of every one except her teacher. Miss Reese looked up with a smile. "Good-morning, Eleanor," she said. "This is quite a frosty morning, isn't it? It promises cold weather soon. I suppose you are glad of that, for your mamma thought she would be home by Christmas, I remember."
"I'm afraid she won't be," returned Eleanor. "Papa wasn't so well when she last wrote."
"Oh, that's too bad. Never mind, you can have a good time with your cousins. It must be very lively for you to have so many playmates, after being the only child in the house."
Eleanor did not reply, but there was a quivering of her lips that told Miss Reese more than words could have done. "Did you come to school on your wheel?" Miss Reese asked, changing the subject.
"No, Miss Reese. Don has broken it. I hate Don."
"Why, my child."
"I do. I can't help it if I am wicked and selfish and—and deceitful, I just hate him," she said, going to her desk and hiding her face behind the lid as she raised it that Miss Reese might not see her tears. But just then in came a troop of girls and no more was said, although Miss Reese made a mental note of Eleanor's words.