But she was not a child. She was a woman loving and longing. Always she had wanted to have a happy Christmas Eve, and she had never had one since Franklin Merriam died.
At last she wrote: "I am going to have a house-warming at Christmas-time: only five guests, and you, Nick, are the principal one. The others, are Mrs. Harland, Mr. Falconer and his bride, and little Miss Wilkins, your school-teacher at Lucky Star. Some day I'll tell you how we renewed our acquaintance."
Nick did not care to know. He wanted to be the only guest: yet somehow he felt that she did not mean to disappoint him. She meant him to be happy that day—the day of Christmas Eve, when she asked him to come to her—at last. But how could she contrive, with other guests, not to let it be a disappointment?
She contrived it by letting him arrive first at the beautiful new house, which was as like as possible, in miniature, to the Mission Inn where they had once "made-believe." They did not speak when they met. Their hearts were too full. There was no question, "Will you marry me?" No answer, "Yes, I am free to love you now." But when the others came, Angela said:
"Congratulate me. I am engaged to the best and dearest man on earth, and I—am the happiest woman."