Thankful held the gaudy ring at arm's length and stared at it helplessly. There was a curious expression on her face, half-way between laughing and crying.
“You bought this—this thing for me,” she repeated. “And did you think I'd wear it.”
“I hoped you would. Oh, Thankful, if you only knew what I've been through. Why, I was next door to starvin' when I got in here tonight. If I hadn't eat somethin' I found in the buttry I would have starved, I guess. And I'm soaked, soppin' through and—”
“There, there. Hush! hush! Jedediah, you're gold-diggin' ain't changed you much, I guess. You're just as helpless as ever you was. Well, you're here and I'm grateful for so much. Now you come with me out into the kitchen and we'll see what can be done about gettin' you dry. Emily, if you'll just put that child to bed.”
But Georgie had something to say. He had listened to this long dialogue with astonishment and growing dismay. Now the dismay and conviction of a great disappointment overcame him.
“I don't want to go to bed,” he wailed. “Ain't he Santa Claus? He SAID he was Santa Claus. Where are my presents? Where's my air-gun? I want my presents. Oh—Oh—Oh!”
He went out crying. Emily ran to him.
“Hush, hush, Georgie, dear,” she begged. “Come upstairs with sister—come. If you don't you may be here when the real Santa comes and you will frighten him away. Come with me; that's a good boy. Auntie, I will be down by and by.”
She led the disappointed and still sobbing boy from the room. Thankful turned to her brother.
“Now you march out into that kitchen,” she commanded. “I'll get you warm first and then I'll see about a bed for you. You'll have to sleep up on the third floor tonight. After that I'll see about a better room to put you in.”