In November Ella and her mother began making plans for Christmas. Aunt Amelia invited seven little girls to tea one night when Uncle George was away, and Marian ate in the kitchen with Lala. The seven were all older than Ella and one of them, little Ruth Higgins, knowing no better, asked for Marian. Lala overheard the answer and was indignant.
"You poor little lamb," she sputtered, upon returning to the kitchen, "I'd run away if I were you."
"Where would I run to?" questioned Marian.
"Anywhere'd be better than here," the girl replied, "and that woman calls herself a Christian!"
"She's a awful cross Christian," Marian admitted in a whisper, brushing away the tears that came when she heard the peals of laughter from the dining-room.
"I wouldn't cry if I were you," advised the girl. "You'll only spoil your pretty eyes and it will do them good to see you cry, you poor baby. The idea of having a party and making you stay out here!"
"It's a Club," corrected Marian, "I've heard 'em talking about it. Dorothy Avery and Ruth Higgins belong. I've tried so hard to be good so I could be in it. They are going to sew presents for poor children and give them toys and everything they don't want their own selves, and then when Christmas day comes they're going to have a sleigh ride and take the things to the poor children. If I was good like Ella, I could be in it. I used to be good, Lala, truly, I did."
"There, there, don't cry," begged Lala. "Look a-here! did you ever see anybody dance the lame man's jig?"
Marian shook her head, whereupon Lala performed the act to the music of a mournful tune she hummed, while Marian laughed until the Club was forgotten. There was plenty of fun in the kitchen after that. In the midst of the hilarity Ella appeared to tell Marian it was her bedtime.
"Are you ever afraid, Lala, when you wake up all alone in the night?" asked Marian as she started up the back stairs.