“O, they always have a tree with candles and trimmings—the Board ladies furnish that,” Frances explained.
The girls lingered late that night talking over Christmas plans. The air was heavy with secrets, there were whispered conferences in corners, and somebody was always drawing Laura aside to ask advice or help. Only Elizabeth had no part in these mysterious whisperings. She had blossomed into happy friendliness with all the girls now that she came regularly to the meetings, but the old sad silence crept over her again in these December days. It was Olga who guessed her trouble and went with it to Sadie, drawing her away from a group of girls who were busy over crochet work.
“Look at Elizabeth,” she began.
Sadie stared at her sister sitting apart from the others, listlessly gazing into the fire. “Well, what of her? What’s eating her?” Sadie demanded in her most aggravating manner.
Olga frowned. Sadie’s slang was a trial to her.
“Elizabeth says she is not coming to the Christmas tree here.”
“Well, she don’t have to, if she don’t want to,” Sadie retorted, but she cast an uneasy glance at the silent figure by the fire.
“She does want to, Sadie Page—you know she does.”
“Well, then—what’s the answer?” demanded Sadie.
“Would you come if you couldn’t give a single thing to any one?” Olga asked quietly.