Then she explained. She had already written a letter for him, with Susie Peters's help, asking in writing what she had asked before by word of mouth, that he be forgiven, and requesting that he might not find his stocking empty on Christmas morning. As to what should be in it, she had left that to Santa's generosity, because Will'm had never said what he wanted.
"And now," she added reproachfully, "I've told you that we oughtn't to ask for more than one thing apiece, 'cause this is the first time he's ever been to this house, and it doesn't seem polite to ask for so much from a stranger."
Will'm defended himself, his chin tilted at an angle that should have been a warning to one who could read such danger signals.
"I only asked for one thing for me and one for you."
"Yes, but don't you see, I had already asked for something for each of us, so that makes two things apiece," was the almost tearful answer.
"Well, I aren't to blame," persisted Will'm, "you didn't tell me what you'd done."
"But you ought to have waited and asked me before you sent it," insisted Libby.
"I oughtn't!"
"You ought, I say!" This with a stamp of her foot for emphasis.