“O, it pays, father—this work with my girls,” she said, when all had gone, and they two sat together before the fire. “It has been such a beautiful, beautiful Christmas!”
XIV
LIZETTE
The last night of December brought a heavy storm of sleety rain, with a bitter north wind. Laura, reading beside the fire, heard the doorbell ring, and presently Olga Priest appeared. The biting wind had whipped a fresh colour into her cheeks, and her eyes were clear and shining under her heavy brows.
“You aren’t afraid of bad weather, Olga,” Laura said as she greeted the girl.
“All weather is the same to me,” Olga returned indifferently, but as she sat down Laura cried out,
“Why, child, your feet are soaking wet! Surely you did not come without rubbers in such a storm!”
“I forgot them. It’s no matter,” Olga said, drawing her wet feet under her skirts.