“I wish I’d seen Rosie,” thoughtfully said Betty, But it was time to say good-bye and go on to the next duty or pleasure; for this had been a very “Christmasy” day, the girls declared. There had been the last rehearsal for the Christmas play, when the performers were “actually” excused from classes if they had any the “last two bells” or periods. Tomorrow morning the play would be given in two assembly gatherings, in order that the whole school might see it. And that night would listen to the carols.
“Why did you ask about Rosie Sevilla’s relatives?” asked Kathryn of Betty, and Betty for the first time told about the name on the letter from Ramon.
“It may not mean anything and again it might,” said Betty. “Once in a while I feel worried about it. It just seems that I might have missed an opportunity. There is some mystery about Ramon and there seems to be about these people. That’s about the only connection. And they’re Spanish, of course.”
“I wouldn’t worry any, Betty,” said Chet. “You can’t fix up things for everybody.”
“No,” said Betty, “but you can help sometimes, Chet. Oh, isn’t it getting dark? I’m glad we’re out of those streets! Do you think we’ll have snow? I do want snow for Christmas!”
“We still have a little left, Betty,” laughed Kathryn, pointing to a narrow stretch of dark snow and ice that edged the streets and walks, or spread in patches over lawns.
“Oh, that!” exclaimed Betty. “I mean something soft and white and clean.”
“You’re likely to get your wish,” said Chauncey. “There’s one of those gray snow clouds now from where the wind is blowing.”
“Will we go carolling if it snows?” asked Kathryn.
“Of course we shall,” replied the president of the Lyon “Y.” “We have cars and people to drive them and chaperons and everything!”