Olga told her.
“Hm. Any money in it?”
“I make a living, but I had a long sickness last summer and it took all I had and more to pay the bills.”
“O well,” replied Sonia carelessly, “you’ll earn more. You look well enough now.” She stretched her arms and yawned. “I’m dead tired. How about sleeping? That single bed won’t hold the three of us.”
“You can sleep there—I’ll sleep on the floor to-night. There’s no other way,” Olga answered.
“All right then. I’ll get to bed in a hurry,” and taking the child from her sister, Sonia undressed it as carelessly as if it had been a doll. The baby half opened its heavy eyes and whimpered a little, but did not really awaken.
When Sonia and the child were in bed, Olga went across to Lizette’s room. Lizette’s welcoming smile vanished at sight of the stern set face, and she drew Olga quickly in and shut the door.
“O, what is it? What has happened, Olga?” she cried anxiously.
“My sister has come with her baby. I don’t know how long she will stay.” Olga spoke in a dull lifeless voice. “I came to tell you, so that you could get your breakfast somewhere else. You wouldn’t enjoy having it with me—now.”
“O Olga, I’m so sorry—so sorry!” Lizette cried, her hands on her friend’s shoulders, her voice full of warm sympathy.