“O, I know—but I want to make the silver set just awfully. I can do it—I know I can—and you promised, Olga Priest, you promised!” Sadie repeated, half crying in her eager impatience.
“Well,” Olga said with a reluctance she did not try to conceal, “if you hold me to that promise——”
“I do then!” Sadie declared, her black eyes watching Olga’s lips as if she would snatch the words from them before they were spoken.
“Then I suppose I must,” Olga went on slowly. “But listen, Sadie. You don’t seem to realise what you are asking of me. I’ve been nearly two years learning this work, and I paid for my lessons—a good big price, too—yet you expect me to teach you for nothing.”
“Well, you know I’ve no money to pay for lessons,” Sadie retorted sulkily.
“I know—but you see you don’t have to learn the silver work. There are plenty of other things for you to learn in handcraft.”
Sadie’s narrow sharp face flushed and she stamped her foot angrily. “But I don’t want the other things, and I do want this. I—I’ve just got to have that silver set, Olga Priest.”
Olga set her lips firmly. She must draw the line somewhere, for there seemed no limit to Sadie’s demands. Then a thought occurred to her and she said slowly, “I don’t feel, Sadie, that you have any right to ask this of me. It is different from the other things. The silver work is my trade—the way I earn my living. But I will teach you to make your set on one condition.”
“It’s something about Elizabeth, I know,” Sadie flung out with an angry flirt.
“No, not this time. Sadie, have you ever given any one a Christmas present?”