To-day, Alice’s blue sailor-suit looked more worn and even shorter than before, and Ben’s sturdy little figure seemed almost bursting out through his tight jacket. But both Alice and Ben were too happy-natured to care much about clothes. He helped her on with her shabby blue coat most affectionately. The twins were very fond of one another, although Ben, being a boy, did not think so much about this as Alice did, for she openly and eagerly showed her love for him.
It was after quarter past five o’clock when Elsa Danforth, waiting in the bay-window of the dining-room for her bread-and-milk supper, saw Betty and Alice and Ben come out of the Warren house. “They have had all this much longer good time!” Elsa said to herself. Life seemed especially lonely to her just then. Her grandmother had reproved her for being late, as well as for running home without her hat on.
Elsa was just a simple and loving little girl, who tried very hard not to be an unhappy one, although she knew she was living without many things which other little girls had in their homes and with their mothers. She was lonelier than ever that night, when bedtime came: and this is how it happened.
Mrs. Danforth had hired a pew at the largest church in Berkeley, and had given money generously whenever asked to help any good cause. It had come time for the ladies of the church to make their yearly gift of clothing and toys to the Convalescent Home. And Mrs. Everett, the head of the committee, called upon Mrs. Danforth for some money, that afternoon.
“It seems too bad to spend money for playthings when so much is needed for clothing,” said Mrs. Everett, as she folded the crisp ten-dollar bill which Mrs. Danforth handed her. “Has your grandchild any old toys which might do for the children?”
“I am sure she has,” replied Mrs. Danforth, remembering a large boxful of half-worn toys in the garret,—toys which Elsa had said she was tired of.
“I could take them in my carriage now,” said Mrs. Everett. She was a large-hearted woman, much interested in the Convalescent Home and eager to help it.
Mrs. Danforth rang for her maid. “Cummings,” she said to the very prim and proper looking woman in starched white cap and black dress who appeared instantly, “bring down that boxful of Miss Elsa’s old toys from the garret. I am going to give them to a children’s home.”
As Cummings went noiselessly out of the room, Mrs. Danforth asked of her caller: “Do you happen to know a poor family by the name of Colt or Holt who live just outside the town?” The proud-faced woman bent forward to disentangle the gold chain of her eye-glasses from the jet ornaments of her waist.
“Yes, I know the Holts,” said Mrs. Everett. “They are poor but very self-respecting people.”